


The Stars In Her Veins

by ClockworksApprentice



Series: The Girl With An Ice Heart & Blue Blood [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Hybrids, LITERALLY, Love Bites, Multi, Multiple kinks, NSFW, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Speciesism, daddy kinks, lots of daddy issues, lots of family issues, mild to major bdsm, multiple different-species sex and pairings, multiple nsfw chapters, so many kinks though, younger yondu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-11-01 00:26:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10910532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworksApprentice/pseuds/ClockworksApprentice
Summary: Its space reached out endlessly and she felt like she could spend an eternity and still not see every star and planet. In a fit of rebellion, Loki's daughter, Asta, sets out to the stars of Midgaurd's realm to see if her father would even bother to reach out to bring her back. When he doesn't, she finds a place as a showgirl performing for species of every kind, yet it's a certain Centaurian that catches her eye.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> You will find out more about Asta as the story goes on. Asta is my own character and is the daughter of Loki, her hybrid status as officially being part Frost Giant and part Asgardian. This is a series that will go over the course of before the cinematic universe, during, and after. This will be a series of one-shots that more or less follow a plot and time-line.

She could feel this rage burning under her skin, mixing with the shame in her veins and eventually, it turned her bones into ice and her eyes into a fire and she wanted nothing more than to howl and scream until her throat was raw and her lungs could no longer draw any more breaths. It was always there, that rage and hatred. She never could get rid of it. It was always filling her mind.

 

When she looked to her father, she could see the same burning rage hidden in his eyes and the tense lock of his jaw. The way he moved was more deadly, precise, with a sharp edge. But to the naked eyed, there stood a precise, calculating, calm, clever Asgardian whose only sharpness was his silver tongue. She drew from his example and tried her best to become something in his image. A princess, a warrior, a trickster. She wasn't sure, just that she drew her strength from the pride in he had in his eyes when he looked at her.

 

But no more.

 

No more whispered tones in the halls of Asgard about _how it was only a matter of time until she showed her 'true colors.'_ No more gossip running through the mill of _how I refuse to believe she's a true princess. She's a freak of nature._ No more muttered _monster_ under people's breath. No longer did she accept to stand in his shadow only to become his mirror image.

 

A steady beat of music filled her ears and her heart followed the lead. She could finally breath and thought it strange how she breathed easier in the tight corset around her bust than she ever did in Asgard. The dark satin curtains pulled back and her hip moved to the steady rhythm as she walked with the confidence of someone who knew they'd never get found.

 

She looked out to the crowd and saw hunger eyes drawn to her, howls of excitement mixed with the music, and she smirked knowing that she was the best.

 

She was no longer Asta, Loki's daughter, destined to become a twisted, ill-intent trickster with a silver tongue that could tie people's fate like a cherry stem.

According to every poster and announcer within the Libidine Burlesque, she was the star performer, Flár.

 


	2. Little Wicked (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yondu never truly believed all the things he had heard until his crew made a pleasure stop on the small planet and he saw exactly why they called their star performer the most beautiful thing in the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs paired to this chapter (songs are paired with most chapters, due to way music ties in so heavily with burlesque)  
> First half of chapter: Little Wicked by Valerie Broussard https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=46rUBCewhxY  
> Second half of chapter: Slow Down Baby by Christina Aguilera https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kZ5pXQbBKFg

Nestled near the Iron Loctus on Contraxia, the Libidine Burlesque offered what its neighbor could not – _real entertainment._ Despite the cold environment, the Libidine had a warm environment for its rougher crowds and plenty of liquor. Not to mention warm bodies, none of those cold love bots of the Iron Loctus. Their performers were just that – _performers._ Dancers that paraded around with their bodies gracefully displayed, singing to the music and swinging their hips to the beat. A few dancers did offer their VIP backrooms, but they offered a classy relaxed atmosphere suited for a burlesque with posters and ads advertising that they had the best in the galaxy. No one truly believed the statement until the ads spread of their new star.

Flár's own image was never shown in any of the advertisements, but word spread around quickly – some were rather vulgar, but the point remained. If you wanted to see the most beautiful, sexy thing in the galaxy - something that made you spoil your own underwear with just a look – go to the Libidine.

Personally, Yondu never truly believed all the things he had heard until his crew made a pleasure stop on Contraxia – a popular spot for many of the Ravengers. He had time and money to spare. He could bed any man or woman or other that he wished. He didn't see the point of wasting any money on bots like the others. Instead, the Captain strut into the Libidine with low expectations of their newfound stare, a couple of his members had followed suit. Kraglin was the only one brave enough to take a seat beside him.

Yondu gave a small grunt of annoyance at the presence of his right hand, if only due to the newness of his own title of Captain. The idea of having a right hand of his own was still strange, but damn he'd take it in stride. Kraglin proved himself more than once to be worthy of the position, but damn he wish the boy would take a hint and stop following him like a lost puppy. 

“The most beautiful thing you'll ever see in the galaxy,” Kraglin read the tag line of one of the posters on the wall as he downed a shot, “Do you really believe that, Captain?”

He merely took a long drink and scoffed, “'Course not, ain't no one could ever really have the _most beautiful thing_ when there ain't no sure thing as it.”

“Maybe,” Kraglin shrugged, his eyes glued to the stage as a low hum of music began, “But I'd be damned if I didn't at least see what the hype was about.”

Yondu didn't bother to comment as the music began to grow louder – a steady rhythm that had a catchy tune, but he wasn't sure what the music's origins were. The thick, dark curtains began to rise as the lights dimmed, a spotlight focusing on the stage. A silhouette of a womanly figure behind a sheer curtain caught everyone's attention as the noise in the crowd came to a hush. The sheer curtain rose as the figure turned around to face the crowd. A tight corset of green barely contained the breasts that threatened to spill over the top of it. Sleek, shorts clung to a round rear and exposed long lean legs. An unfamiliar type of gemstone laid strung across multiple strands that hung from the corset to cover a thin streak of skin between the top and the shorts. A fluffy, black skirt covered half of the shorts and moved to the rhythm of her hips.

Her blue skin was a lighter shade than his own. Thin, gray-blue lines stretched in a decorative pattern across her face and limbs. It showed off brilliantly against the green material she wore and he swore her skin called to him. The longer he looked, the more he noticed a thin glimmer to her skin, as if there were a layer of ice over it that reflected in the light. She had hair – few species around these parts did – that was long, flowing and such a shade of dark blue that it could be mistaken as black. It shimmered like her skin and appeared like it would be soft to the touch.

But it was the moment that red eyes caught in the spotlight that Yondu felt two things – a catch in his throat that almost made him spit out his drink and an uncomfortable tightness growing in his trousers.

She was the most beautiful thing in the galaxy.

 

* * *

 

 

She sang of wickedness and of threats to become a ruler – of what, he wasn't sure. He didn't think anyone quite knew what the second meaning was that underlined her words, but she made a damn fine songbird that enchanted every single patron. Her movements were smooth, but had a dangerous edge to them that spoke of a hidden power. He wanted to know how much power she truly held and if he could take it all away by driving her into a mattress or against the wall in the restroom if he had to. He wasn't picky of the location, but something told him that she was. Something as beautiful as she was needed a good place for an even better fuck.

It looked like luck was on his side that night. She had danced her way to the bar after the performance, not even bothering to change like many of the other dancers that wandered into the crowd after a show. The fabric of her skirt brushed against his leg and he slammed his drink onto the table. He was slowly losing his grip on his control. If she kept looking at him like _that_ through the corner of her eyes, he was sure he'd never have control again. Not with her.

He eyed the other patrons that wandered too close or stuck around close by, their eyes firmly glued to Flár. He felt oddly proud that out of the patrons, he was the center of her attention. If the rumors were true, she was a hard woman to please and rarely even went into the crowd. As far as he knew, no one had ever seen her go into the backrooms with anyone. His cock stirred at the idea of being the one back there with her, making sure everyone knew that he had the money and charm to get her to lead him there. And to be frank, as a new Captain, he could use the credit that it would get around the others.

“Seems you're quite the popular one, aren't ya girlie.”

He lost count of the drink he was on, but it didn't matter how much alcohol he had in his system as long as she had one more.

“That's what the posters say.” 

He drew a quick breath. Her voice sounded the way she looking – smooth, sultry with a deeper undertone. There was a gleam of something in her eyes – a danger that enticed him. His eyes were focused on those dark blue lips of hers and the way they turned into a suggestive smirk. He couldn't help but think of how perfect those lips would be around him. The tightness in his pants grew. He glanced to the backrooms and how a few of the girls were already guiding a few patrons behind their curtains. He glanced back to the performer in front of him.

“How much do I otta offer before ya lead me back there,” he nodded toward the back rooms.

For a moment, there was a sour, bitter expression on her face. It was replaced quickly with a salty amusement as she eyed him. He felt a sense of pride in the way her eyes lingered on certain areas of his body. She leaned forward, almost as if she was testing him to see if he was worth her time. He knew it'd be a pretty price to get her to drop her shorts, but it would be worth it if he could grab that ass that cheekily showed underneath them. Her fingertips grazed against his torso, leaving a cold chill against his skin. Eyes flickered up to him through long eyelashes and there was a wickedness to her grin that made the tent in his pants even more uncomfortable.

A singing, tingly sensation trickled through the air between them that he could feel tickling his skin, like a siren song drawing him in, and he'd be damned if he didn't let this siren drown him.

“For you,” she purred, “It's on the house.”

She pulled back as quick as she had led him on and stood from her spot at the bar. She downed a lazy shot and strut toward the back area. A hand waved behind her, lazily motioning for him to follow. He did so gladly, excitement and lust itching under his skin. He was more than aware of everyone's eyes on him, but that only caused him to walk a bit taller with a predatory grin on his face. He followed closely behind her, his eyes lingering at the rear that made his fingers twitch. He was barely aware of Kraglin whining behind him.

“I don't usually do this,” she stated simply as she pulled back a curtain into the back area.

She motioned toward a nearby room with the door open – he could hear the moans and groans and the squeaking of beds from behind multiple closed doors. He took the hint and walked into the room, already working on the buckle of his belt.

“And what makes me so special?”

He glanced back to her as she closed and locked the door with an excited predatory look. Her rear pressed against the door as she leaned forward, dangerously taunting him as she wiggled out of the skirt and shorts. She had a way of looking at him that made him feel as if she was interested in every inch of his skin.

“Don't flatter yourself.”

She didn't really answer his question yet.

“I don't like the patrons here, they wouldn't take kindly to the things I have in mind. Centaurians have a higher body temperature than most species, thought the cold may be different for you and you seem to enjoy it as much as I am. I haven't had a good fuck in a while.”

His cock grew hard and he let out a grunt as he undid his belt and worked on getting his trousers off. His eyes were glued firmly on her as he did so, a strange mix of awe, fascination, and lust stirring at the way her skin seemed to glimmer and glow as if covered in frost. The way she spoke reflected the same grace and elegance – she spoke as if she were higher class, a noble or royal. It was vastly different from the way most of the others had spoke. It was… addicting… to listen to, especially with profanities stirring in her words. There was a call to touch her that grew stronger with each word. Excitement buzzed as pre-cum already began to glisten at his tip as he removed the rest of his suit. There was a cold chill to the air that was getting more prominent the closer she got to him. It wasn't until her breasts were leaning into him, a hand sliding down closer to his cock that he realized that the cold was originating from her. It created chills down his spin and made every inch of his skin tingle.

“And what exactly do you have in mind,” his words were low and husky as he dared to grab her waist, tracing one of the patterns on her skin that lingered there with his thumb.

Her skin was soft, yet as cold as the air around her. He was shorter than she was, yet she still looked at him through half-lidded eyes, her lips parting into a small pant. He let in a sharp intake of breath as her fingernail grazed against the underside of his cock, sharp yet enjoyable twangs of a cold shot through him. Understanding dawned on him as a sinful smirk grew,

“That's a handy little trick you got.”

Her smirk was wicked as she dared to tower over him, her hand lightly grabbing his member, sending jolts of cold joy through it.

“Trick,” there was a feign innocence in her voice, “There's no trick.”

Her grip became tighter and harder, causing him to throw his head back with a long groan. He was daring to believe his fantasy of her lips around him was going to become a reality. He barely had time to catch himself as he was suddenly pushed down onto the bed. There was a shout and curse in his throat that he chocked on when he saw she was already between his legs, her tongue darting around his tip. He leaned back on his elbows, hips thrusting just a bit to get more friction. There was an interesting contrast between the cold hand around the lower half of his member and the damp warmth of her tongue and mouth as her lips wrapped around him, bobbing her head at a slow, steady pace.

“Oh fuck,” His control was beginning to slip and he felt like he could cum any second. He reached down to grab her hair, to force her down a bit farther down, but this time he did curse as she swatted his hand away and let go of his member with a wet pop.

He looked down to see red eyes narrowing dangerously at him as she dared to climb up farther onto him, forcing him down on the bed. She settled herself on his lap and looked at him in a way that was just _daring_ him to take control again. He let out a chuckle and leaned back,

“Alright, I get the game you're playin'.”

He'd let her take control, for now. There was nothing wrong with getting to sit back and let someone else do the work. As she was beginning to settle herself on him, a hand darting under her body to help guide it to her entrance, a thought occurred to him that caused him to sit up sharply. She was quick to shove him back down, with a small growl that caused his cock to leak as he groaned.  
  
“I was just going to ask if we were compatible and if we had to worry about contraceptives,” His voice was breathy and low, “I don't know what you are.”

The hand at his throat, lightly squeezing it in warning with frosty fingertips took him by surprise. If it were any other situation, he would have already began to fight back, but the choking was oddly arousing. Her face was close to his as she hissed at him, adding to the mystery of her species – he couldn't think of any species that was so cold-orientated that growled and hissed as she did. 

“And you never will.” There was an unspoken threat in her words that turned into a loud, long drawn out moan as he slipped inside of her. “But I do believe we are compatible enough for sex. Don't you worry about kids, all of us girls have ways of avoiding it.”

He let out a groan that mixed with hers – he didn't know there could be anything that was such a perfect mix of hot and cold that could feel this good. He opened his eyes just enough to see the amusement in hers. The hand around his throat squeezed lightly before slowly letting go to slide down his torso, settling just above one of his hearts. He could see her briefly before her lips were on his neck, teeth lightly biting where her hand had been. Despite the pleasure shooting up his veins as she grinded her hips, he let out a sharp call of pain.

“Easy,” He wasn't afraid to growl at her after the stunt she had pulled, “I'm not some damn chew toy.”

She didn't seem to pleased by the comment, growling and hissing under her breath, but the rhythm in her hips never faltered. She made her way for his neck again, causing him to let out a _tsk_ in warning. The frosty chill over his heart grew a bit stronger. She bit his neck again, a bit harder than before. Pleasure be damned, he let out a string of curses as he sat up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist as she let out a small squeak at the sudden change in position, his member hitting her deeper. He didn't allow himself to groan at the pleasure as his hands went straight for her neck, squeezing it a bit harder than he meant to as he leaned forward, his cock pushing even deeper into her, causing her to squirm and moan under his control.

“I told you no biting,” he scolded her as he pushed his hips back only to slam forward with more force, causing her to let out a particularly loud groan. “And if you're not going to be good than you ain't going to get fucked.”

She didn't think she would enjoy the way his hands felt around her neck as much as she currently did nor find pleasure from the way he scolded her, telling her to behave. Her lips were far apart in a drawn out pant that mixed with her moans as she looked at him, silently begging him for more. He noticed the look in her eyes, a twisted smile on his face.

“You like that don't ya,” his voice turned from scolding into a deep husky tone that swept her away.

The grip around her neck loosened, but she could feel his fingertips still lightly dipping into her skin.

“You like me just taking control? Taking away all of your power to leave you a moaning mess, begging for more? Begging for my cock to slam into you?”

Shame, guilt, and pleasure all seeped from her as her pussy grew tight around him.

“Yes, sir,” her voice couldn't come out any louder than a whisper, but it caused a fire to ignite in his loins and in his eyes as he let out a growl.

The hands left her neck, causing a small pout and whine of protest from her, but they gripped her ass hard as he lifted her up, almost causing him to slip out of her entirely, as he flipped her over so he could tower right over her. The tip of his cock grazed against her clit, causing her to melt beneath him before he slipped back into her at full force, one hand on her neck and other beside her to support his weight.

Their moans mixed with a series of hisses and growls as it gradually became harder, rougher. Nails dug deep into his back. Parts of her skin grew sore from his strong grip. His thrusts never faltered, hitting her full force until they became sloppier and more rushed as he began to reach his high. He removed the hand from her throat to put it on the other side of her to support his weight better as he slammed into her a few last times, his breath hot on her neck as he leaned forward to lightly graze at a spot between her neck and collar bone, right along one of the pattern lines on her skin.

She let out a sharp intake of breath, her nails digging sharply into his back creating good cuts on it as her legs wrapped tightly around him. Her pussy tightened around his cock as he let one last long thrust before pulling out as she released her grip on him, panting heaving as he pumped his cock before it spurted across her torso.

They were both panting heavily as he admired the way his cum glistened against her skin. He collapsed onto the bed beside her, desperately trying to catch his breath. His body heat radiated like a space heater, trying to compensate for the cold sharpness radiating from her body. She was so close to him. It'd be easy to just reach over and touch her, somewhere, _anywhere,_ but his hands laid planted at his sides, inches away from hers. _Fuck that,_ he scowled at himself and settled into the bed farther, putting his hands behind his head. He could see the frosty spots left from her beginning to melt off his body, but when he glanced at her, he could see that nothing melted off of her. Her skin remained glistening, almost as if any sweat was merely a light dusting of snow that froze in moments against her body. She looked like a doll, perfect and unmoving. She looked disturbingly _dead_ , eyes staring right up at the ceiling with no hint of thought or emotion and for a brief moment, he wondered if it was some new sexbot that lured him into bed but he looked closer to see the steady rise and fall of her chest that brought a bit of ease into his mind.

He wondered how any species could be so _cold._ She was constantly radiating it as if she were a winter storm within the nexus, threatening to sweep ships up into her snow dusted wind and freeze them within the void of space.

He could only watch in wonderment as she stood from the bed and went straight for her clothes. He sat there panting, watching as she put on her outfit and ran her hands through her hair. Makeup was smudged around her eyes, but otherwise, she looked stage-ready in a heartbeat.

“I have a show in ten minutes,” there was a twinkle in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder at him, lingering at the door.

He hated how he was waiting for her to say something like _see you next time_ – because of _course_ there wasn't going to be a next time. He wasn't sure how often his crew could even make stops on this planet and he doubted that this was going to turn into some fuck-buddy relationship where he could just drop by anytime at the drop of a hat for a good fuck.

She was out the door before he could respond and he hated that the bed felt so much warmer without her there beside him.


	3. Showgirl Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The interactions with the other performers don't always go so well.

Asta was never one to rush, especially backstage. She had a calm, elegant grace that the others envied. It was as if each move she did was nothing short of perfect. She rose to the top quickly and effectively, knowing down any dancer that would dare go after her stop.

It took some time, but eventually the Libidine dancers and owner became accustomed to her. To the way that she hardly spoke, the mysterious air that clouded around her, and how she left her mark with layers of frost and ice. The mirror she sat in front of in the dressing room had a layer of frost gathering in its edges and corners, spreading to its center. The brushes before her were labeled as her own by the frost covering the handles from her use. She sat eerily calm, applying thin layers of makeup to her eyes, enjoying the feel of the brush against her skin. The skirt she wore flowed over the side of the chair and occasionally, her hands dropped to her breasts to adjust the way they sat in the corset.

It was almost as if there was a bubble around her, despite the way the others rushed and bustled about, there was a clear avoidance near her. It was a welcome bubble, she believed, but it broke harshly when one of the girls ran by too close, grazing against Asta's shoulder. The girl let out a hiss, jumping back as the cold harshness of Asta's skin spread to her own. Asta scowled at the dark mark of makeup that streaked against her cheek from the nudge, turning around in her chair with a growl.

“Flár for fuck's sake,” Cora swore as she frantically tried to dust off the sudden ice that spread on her arm. She scowled at the way it tinted her yellow skin to a sickly shade. “Control the fucking frost before you freeze all of our asses. It's cold enough as it is outside and it's not as if we're given fur coats.”

“Not unless you're born with one,” another nearby girl – Darby, if Asta remembered correctly – commented, only for another one named Lilac to lightly shove her off the chair for the remark.

“I have to redo my makeup,” Asta lightly complained, frowning as she grabbed a sponge and worked on getting the dark line off, “So consider us even, Cora, I had just gotten it to look perfect.”

Cora huffed and began to stalk off, but that didn't stop Asta from calling out to her,

“I'll try to control the frost, but I'm afraid your head is forever stuck inside of your ass.”

A few of the girls snickered, others exchanging strained looks as they heard Cora's curses from the other room. Asta didn't care much as she continued to work on perfecting her makeup. When the streak didn't vanish well enough, she eyed around her cautiously before whispering a spell under her breath and wiping the tip of a light finger against it to watch it vanish under her touch. Satisfied, she worked on the dark eyeshadow around her eyes.

“I still don't know what she is.”

Asta scowled at the whispered tones behind her. The others, it seemed, could only stay quiet for so long. Asta admired their ability to find time to gossip.

“And how does she do the frost? Is it natural? Magic?”

Asta could see the one whispering in the corner of her mirror – Darby and Lilac were huddled close in front of the mirrors behind her. They shared a seat, their bodies pressed uncomfortably close with little elbow room, but they seemed content with the space given them. The two shared the mirror given due to Kaci, who sat beside them, taking up so much counter space, sprawling her things out about as far as she can spread her legs. From her tendency to take up so much space and due to the way her tentacles waved about, it was no wonder that there was plenty of room between her and the others.

“Magic's not real,” Lilac denied, shaking her head, “Obviously whatever she is is from somewhere cold so I guess it makes sense her body has a way of creating frost to preserve herself. Who knows, maybe it's not cold enough for her here.”

Asta let a small smile make a way to her lips as she applied a dark blue stain to them. Lilac, she decided, was an ally. Not quite a friend, but not an enemy. She already had a disgust for Cora and she wasn't sure where Darby laid on the line, but it was nice to hear someone defend her. Even if she didn't need it.

“I don't know,” Darby's tone became more quiet and hesitant, “What about that thing she does when she performs?”

She almost admired the way Gaia seemed to know when there was doubt rising among the others. She had trouble telling if it was from a love for gossip or from hatred toward Asta herself. The girl could definitely learn to do it better and more discretely, for as the words left Darby's mouth, Gaia had appeared with that smirk on her face as she slithered up to the pair. The Krylorian had a smirk on her lips as her arms wrapped around the duo.

“I heard it's witchcraft,” Gaia whispered harshly, “Some sort of spell to make people like her. I think it's a bit pathetic, don't you? To need a spell just so people like your performance?”

Asta breathed in deeply, a fury rising in her chest as she stood from her mirror and adjusted the top of the corset for one last time.

“It doesn't really matter what I do if Dav allows it,” Asta snapped.

Gaia scowled harshly, her nose crinkling, “Dav allows a lot of things with you since he seems to think you're so _perfect._ But I don't think he'd be happy to hear how you've been fucking around with that Centaurian free of charge.”

Asta's face burned, creating a dark blue haze across her cheeks as her eyes lit up in anger. She snarled, raising a hand dangerously.

“That fee is optional to each performer, Dav lets us fuck whomever we want as long as we make it in time for a performance.”

Gaia rolled her eyes with a huff, “You're stupid for not charging. You're the star performer. You could put a lot of extra units in your pocket if you charged a fee. But then again to do that you'd need to show an interest in anyone that isn't Centurians. Until him, we've been running bets that maybe your species is asexual or only used it for mating and to repopulate instead of recreation.”

Gaia's smirk turned more malicious as she bared her teeth and her eyes narrowed in triumph as if she knew she already won the battle.

“Personally, I just thought you believed yourself to be above all of us like some high and mighty bitch.”

Gaia's words cut into her, growling as she lunged for the other girl, nails digging into her neck, creating a layer of ice around the area as she snarled. They hit the floor with a hard thunk, a small cloud of frosted dust rising around them. Hisses mixed with growls, snarls, curses and shrieks. The others, not wanting to get caught in the middle of the fight, were quick to give them room.

“Don't you call me a bitch, you _whore.”_

Asta's eyes gleamed dangerously, red shining more intensely as ice sprawled across Gaia's neck, making it swell and tighten. Gaia's breathing became more labored and short as it became harder to breath. It didn't stop her from lashing back at Asta, teeth baring as a last defense.

“He only likes you because you use that trick of yours, if you didn't use that freaky spell then he'd drop you for a better looking fuck."

Asta's grip tightened and Gaia didn't bother to fight back. Her face was inches away, snarling with a thick, icy breath that came out in a cloud from her lips. All she saw was red and all she felt was the burning beneath her skin to squeeze _harder._

“What the fuck, Flár,” a familiar voice screeched.

When Asta blinked, she was a good distance away from Gaia, who stood gasping for air with a hand at her throat as she leaned against Cora for support. She briefly wondered when Cora had even shown up and continued to blink frantically until her vision became clearer. She could see how the other girls had gathered into a small huddle a good distance away, watching in a mix of curiosity and caution. Darby had her head settled deeply onto Lilac's chest, refusing to look at the fight as Lilac rubbed awkward circles on her back. She was the only one brave enough to lock eyes with Asta, nodding in approval. Asta nodded back.

“Do you mind explaining yourself girls?”

Asta focused on the person in front of her, the only one standing between her and Gaia. Dav. He watched them with caution, anger, and a lot of disappoint. A hand dangled down by an electric weapon at his side, prepared to use it if needed. He glanced toward Gaia, likely to make sure she was okay, but most of his attention was focused firmly on Asta as he waited for an explanation.

“Gaia was saying things that was simply none of her business and proceeded to call me a bitch, which I do not take kindly too.”

Asta stayed simple and to the point. She liked to think she did a good job of explaining, as if there was no other information needed. Someone insulted her and that should be that. Lilac was still nodding her approval, knowing too well of the importance of protecting one's honor and respect. Dav, however, was less than amused as he shook his head with frustration.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” he sighed deeply, “Gaia will always talk shit -” He ignored Gaia's shout of protest. “ - _Everyone_ will always talk shit, that's how the real world works, Flár, if you're not used to it by now, I don't know what to tell you. But you're damn lucky you have that glamor.”

Asta grumbled under her breath, crossing her arms tightly against her chest, refusing to look anyone in the eyes as a sense of shame began to bubble. Dav said a few more words about how she had a performance in five and should freshen up before he left the backstage area, taking Gaia with him to see if one of the medics in the VIP area – the ones who specialized with inter-species sex and potential diseases it spread – to see if they could do anything about a frozen threat.

Asta hoped there was no cure and if she was lucky it would permanently damage Gaia's voicebox.


	4. The Addiction of Glamor (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asta's doubts and concerns over using her glamor begin to take over her and in a moment of weakness, she dropped it for Yondu to see what she really was. It goes over a lot better than she thought it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song paired with this chapter:  
> Black Sea by Natasha Blume https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q8DFh-JmiS0

Sex with him was an addiction she wasn't proud of. But it was different. Rough. New. She let herself drown in the lust and pleasure of mortals. It burned under her skin and at her groin. She slept with two of the performers that performed on male only nights – it still wasn't enough. She brought Darby and even Lilac into her bed. It still wasn't enough.

She craved _him._ She yearned for him, _begged_ for him. It was pathetic. Humiliating.

She loved it.

She loved the way he turned her into something so dependent on him. She never had to lean on anyone before. Then he came and she melted into him, her chill cooling off his body heat and damn it felt good with his body thawing her ice as quickly as it formed. He was one of the few that experienced the way she can jolt chills down to the nerves and up the spine, how she can be that perfect mixture of cold and heat.

_It's a lie._ Something deep within her whispered.  _It's the glamor forming bonds between you that wouldn't exist otherwise._ She swallowed deeply, as she did every time that voice chimed in her mind.  _The glamor makes him like you, makes him see whatever he wants to see._

She started to look for him in the crowd – especially on the nights when the voices were stronger. He rarely showed, being bust with being a Ravanger, but when she spotted that familiar blue face in the crowd, she could feel her body shudder with anticipation, especially when his eyes would catch hers when she performed. He'd give her a look and she would melt, her knees growing weak and it took everything she had not to pant with want.

He knew the schedule, how it all worked. He would go to the Libidine, tease her during her performances with vulgar expressions that were well hidden from the other patrons. Her performance would end and he could see the shake in her walk and it would only cause his arousal to grow. He would head into the back rooms himself, settling into what had become their own room – each performer, he had learned, had their own room and it made him proud that he was one of the only ones to ever use hers.

Each time, he'd just finish undressing when she'd come sauntering in with eyes hooded with lust that gleamed dangerously in the light. That expression never failed to make him hard. She'd walk toward him with a dangerous stride, her skin glimmering like freshly frozen ice. She was an expert at removing her corset as she walked, undoing the clasps in a blink of an eye.

He still didn't know what she was. At this point, he didn't really care. But he settled with the idea that she was a siren for her skin never failed to call out to him, making him long for it, _dream_ of it. He kept those dreams a secret until the night he woke up with morning wood spooning Kraglin. He tried hard with sex bots and any girl he came across that would bed him just didn't compare to her. No one had skin that perfect shade of blue that blended beautifully into the grayer patterns embedded into the flesh. No one gave off that same chilly air around them that lowered his body heat and caused sense of arousal he never even knew he had until her.

“The most beautiful thing in the galaxy,” he quoted the tag line as his nails dug into her hips, his teeth already going for her neck.

She melted into him each time, breathing heavily against his ear as he pressed her roughly against the wall. His hands went lower and she was up around his waist in an instant, his fingers dug into her ass as he slid into her, growling and biting into her neck. She let out a loud moan that turned into short, small squeaks as he pounded into her.

“Do you know what you do to me,” he snarled into her ear, “I can't get you out of my damn mind.”

His pounding turned rougher, harder, _deeper._ Her moans grew in volume as her breath was pounded out of her lungs. Her moans became sharp takes of breath, unable to speak as he continued to bang her against the wall, making it thud beneath her.

“Why isn't anyone else as good as you?”

His question was soft, yet she still heard it. It was enough to shake her out of the ecstasy and into guilt. _The glamor,_ she thought bitterly. She remembered the many times Gaia claimed that it was the only thing keeping Yondu attached to her. She never had a problem with it until now as he lightly questioned the bonds between them.

If he noticed the change in her, he didn't seem to care. Her gasps of breath had nearly completely stopped as she turned limp in his arms. She had been craving it as much as he had been, but the guilt was too great for her to ignore it.

_ T he glamor is the only reason he's with you,  _ the voice whispered in the back of her mind. She exposed more of her neck to him in defiance. She felt the strongest urge to prove the voice wrong, to subdue her doubts of shame.  _ It's still wrong – this is wrong. You know it.  _ She got louder and louder to try to drown it out, but it did nothing. Her control of the frost that was hardening and sharpening along her skin grew began to spiral as her emotions turned into a turmoil.

_The glamor is the only reason anyone likes you. You're a little monster. He doesn't see you for what you are. If he did, he would run._ Her breathing turned shallow as ice chilled her to the bone.  _The glamor, the glamor, the glamor._ It all came back to the  _glamor._ The stupid, idiotic  _glamor._ She hated that the voice was right. No one would be with her without It. No one would like her without it.  _Monster. Monster. Monster._

Her back stung and her throat grew tight. She looked at her hands through red-clouded vision to see blue skin staring back at her. She wanted to cry and scream, let out all of her frustration and emotions in a way that didn't create a winter storm against her bare flesh.

Yondu let out a sharp cry and pulled away from her.  _Leave me, leave me, leave me._ He glared harshly in her direction. The glare softened when he saw the way she fell against the wall, sliding to the floor to put her knees up to her chest. Her shoulders trembled as her body began to resemble a forgotten ice sculpture. 

“Ah hell,” Yondu grumbled and swore as he reached for his pants and pulled them on.

For a moment, Asta believed that her doubt was as real. He was going to leave since he couldn't get a fuck out of her. He was probably going to sneak around and see if one of the girls would offer him a free ride. She didn't expect for him to fall to the floor beside her, keeping a careful distance. His hand hovered over her shoulder before it pulled back in fear of the sharp icicles that drew out from her skin.

"Are you… alright,” he asked carefully, eying her with caution, idly scratching at a spot behind his ear. “Wasn't too rough on ya, was I?”

When she looked up, he was a bit stunned to see the hurt and pain that flashed in her eyes. It made his stomach turn and an odd, foreign sympathy to build in his chest. He refused to acknowledge the way his heart stopped at the sight of frozen droplets that formed beautiful little sparkles in the corners of her eyes and fell down her face.

“The glamor,” she whispered, her voice raw with emotion as ice spread to the area around him. Yondu was forced to move away a few inches to not get hit with the sprawling ice. “No one is as good as me because you're under the glamor.”

Yondu wasn't entirely sure what a glamor meant, but he didn't like the way it sounded nor the way she said it as if confessing a sin. He scowled deeply, “You didn't slip nothin' into my drink, did you?”

Asta sniffled, cradling her knees tighter.  She could barely find her voice and she wanted nothing more than to fade into the wall and freeze over. Her father's voice had joined the first –  _no one cares for the Jotun and they never will. Glamors protect us and we are nothing without them._

“Glamor isn't a drug,” she leaned her head back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling and in her mind, she could see it swirl to form the golden bridgework of Asgard. “Glamor is a… spell. Magic. An ability to make people like what they see and see only what they like. The chill, the cold, the ice, is so deeply set into my bones and soul that no glamor can get rid of it, but when people see me, they see everything _but_ me. I could be a beautiful Kyrlorian to some, an enchanting Aavon to others, a seducing Xandarian. None of it's real.”

_This isn't real._

She shifted and looked down at her hands, releasing her knees as she turned her palm over, focused on the way the pattern embedded into her flesh swirled along the tendons. “ No one else is as good as me because the glamor makes it so. It's job security.”

He got a strong sense it was much more than job security. A deep frown set on his face as he leaned against the wall – anger bubbled in his chest at being played, but he couldn't ignore the raw emotions in her voice.  _Damn._ He really wished he could. 

“I'm sorry that you thought I was something you liked.”

She didn't expect the sharp sting in her chest from speaking it aloud and she could try to prepare herself all she wanted, but she knew she would break when he decided to get up and walk out. It'd be the easiest thing to do, the least messy.

“Don't you put words into my mouth,” he growled, scowling at her, “ I liked those little icy tricks of yours, girlie, what you look like doesn't really change the fact you're a pretty good fuck.”

She winced, drawing back into herself – his words meant so little to her.  _A pretty good fuck._ At least she know understood how serious he viewed their fuck-buddy system. She was just a good fuck. She always would be just that.  She wasn't sure why that hurt.

“But I don't appreciate bein' lied to,” Yondu turned to face her and his eyes bore right into hers with a strong intensity. “Drop the glamor.”

She hesitated. _'What you look like doesn't really change the fact you're a pretty good fuck.'_ He could think she was hideous. He could hate everything about her, but at the very least, she could maybe get him to stay around for pleasure. She just wasn't sure how pleasurable it was going to be for either of them if he found out that she a monster. She bit her lip before she finally made her decision.

There was a light blurred gleam around her edges, as if it were blurring her out of focus. Yondu squinted his eyes, but as soon as it was there, it was gone. She was still on the floor beside him, her red eyes watching him so carefully, waiting for his reaction. He made a big show of looking her up and down, trying to note any differences no matter how big or small. She still had the same soft hair that fit perfectly in his fist. A waist that was a perfect fit in his palm. Blue skin that shimmered in the dim lighting and breasts that swelled into a perfect mold. Her eyes had lost that dangerous gleam in them, showing how vulnerable she was, exposing her true form to him, naked and bare for him to see how the details of each pattern formed in her skin.

She was naked, he realized, in the best way possible, but in the most _dangerous_ way possible. She never looked as frail as she did then, on the brink of shuddering tears. Her emotions were bare to him, her weakness was exposed. He could spread word around that it was all a lie at the risk of patrons getting too violent. He could just walk out that door, leaving her alone and naked to face the truth that she was hideous.

Except – she _wasn't_ hideous. The more he looked, the more he noticed that nothing truly changed. Her patterns were still in their same place and there was still a sheen of ice over her skin that glittered between flesh and air. He smirked dangerously, his cock twitching, as he began to think how he was fucking her – _really_ her – this entire time. Nothing was a lie, not the orgasms, not the soft blue skin, not the way her face contorted into pleasure when he drove into her.

“Well, I'll be damned,” he stated simply and a predatory look showed in his eyes as he leaned forward toward her.

She seemed to take it the wrong way, backing up from him the best she could. He stopped her from squirming away as he twisted over to sit on top of her lap. Her wrists fit perfectly in one of his hands as he pinned them above her head and against the wall.

“What changed,” she asked quietly, but let out a small groan as he began to work along her neck.

“Ain't nothing changed, girlie, you're exactly as you always have been.”

She melted as the weight lifted from her shoulders, allowing herself to give into the pleasure as the spot between her legs grew wet and impatient. His other hand had been working on one of her breasts, teasing the nipple between two fingers as he nibbled along her skin.

“ _F_ _uck me_ _,_ ” she breathed as waves of pleasure began to climb up, Yondu smirked against her collar bone as his hand slid down between her legs. She hadn't stopped him yet, so he assumed what he was about to do would be okay. Two fingers easily slipped into her and she let out a long, drawn out groan as she melted underneath him.

His cock twitched impatiently, but he could settle down with that later. For now, _this_ mattered. She had always been so enchanting and _damn good_ in bed, but the idea that she never knew if he was truly doing that to the real her – that he wasn't attracted to her, not _really_ – until now made him impatient.

He'd show her just how fucking attractive she was.


	5. Kindred Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which one of the performers forms a bond with Asta over the loss and need for love
> 
> Song Paired With Chapter:  
> Free by Maria Mena https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iVuSwyWJQLY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was excited to put Bri in the story, her character is fun to write. In case anyone misses it, Bri says she wants a little girl named Berett. Berett was the Krylorian girl in the first Guardians of the Galaxy that had woken up on Peter's ship in the beginning of the movie.

 

If there was one word that came to mind whenever Bri saw Flár, it was _hidden._ The other girl, their _star performer,_ was cloaked in hidden secrets from the truth about her species to how she evoked so much ice and cold. For fuck's sake, none of them even knew if Flár was just a stage name or if it was her real name. She was a mystery, a blurry puzzle piece there just wasn't any fit for. At times, Bri felt as if Flár 's puzzle piece went to a very different, but much bigger, picture. She was out of place here on Libidine. Sure, her performances always gained much attention and she nailed the sensuality of each dance move and looked _stunning_ in each costume, but there was so much more hidden in her eyes.

 

But it was all an act, just like any of her shows, Bri could see it swirling in those red irises. She wanted much more than Libidine could ever give her – what it was in particular that she wanted, Bri wasn't sure. She could have a million guesses, but something deep in her soul told her that Flár was a kindred spirit to herself and had that same need for _family_ and _real companionship_ that Libidine just doesn't offer.

 

It was dark and the Libidine had closed – closed nights were rare and few, with the performers simply having different shifts to switch out through the day and night. The Libidine felt so peaceful and melancholic without the hustle and bustle, with soft music that poured from the speakers. Dav insisted on leaving some sort of music running to help with how empty the Libidine felt without any patrons. But he was already upstairs, fast asleep in his private suite.

 

Almost everyone was asleep by now, or at the very least they were tucked away into their rooms. She saw Darby sneak off into Lilac's room not too long ago – flustered and embarrassed at being caught didn't stop the Xandarian from continuing her mission into the Kree's room. But Flár was simply resting in the dressing room common area, slinking into her chair in front of the mirror. She just sat there, staring at her reflection with intensity that seemed so _painful._

 

It was hard for Bri to watch her. There was so much sorrow and anger radiating from Flár, mixing with the harsh chill surrounding the room. _Just when I thought she was getting better,_ Bri thought sadly. With the Centaurian came, after a while, Flár seemed _lighter,_ happier. As if she had gotten rid of a burden or was finally happy with herself. Bri didn't necessarily like the one that Flár favored – a captain of the Ravangers was _dangerous_ and she worried greatly for her. But it did make Flár happy.

 

Or so she thought.

 

She winched when Flár let out a loud grunt of anger and hit her fist on the mirror's frosted edges hard enough for the ice to shatter. Her knuckles bled blood and she panted heavily, glaring at her reflection with pure hatred. Her glamor was down, Bri could sense it. There was no pull or longing toward her, and there was no enchantment around her that sang to draw her in. For the first time in the years Flár had been there, Bri no longer saw red eyes contrasting against beautiful green skin nor did she see short waves of hair the shade of blood.

 

But she wasn't hideous as Gaia had gossiped about. She was still beautiful, or would be when her face was contorted into agony. Blue skin shimmered in the dim light like a sea had frozen over and was trapped against her flesh. She could see gray-blue lines embedded into the skin, forming swirling patterns along her limbs. The darker blue blood that dripped from her knuckles turned into icicles that fell from her wounds.

 

Bri turned her head and debated about leaving, Flár didn't have to know that she was there watching her in a moment of raw emotional weakness. But as Flár's shoulders shook with silent sobs, Bri's heart broke. She took a steady step forward out of the shadows. She never saw Flár lke this – she had a temper, sure, but she never cried and more importantly, she never dropped that glamor. She could think of only a hand full of things that had changed recently to make Flár this… emotional.

  
“That Centaurian didn't… hurt you, did he,” she asked tenderly and carefully,

 

Flár turned to her sharply, narrowing her eyes dangerously with a snarl at her lips in surprise at the sudden appearance. But the sharpness of her expression melted away at Bri's question as she took in a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, before she relaxed into the chair and turned to her reflection.

  
“No,” Flár spoke softly, “I just couldn't stand the sight of my own skin and had to get it out of my system.”

 

When Flár glanced at her through the reflection in the mirror, Bri understood the hidden message. A message to go away, leave her alone, to never bring this up again. Like most things Bri heard in her life, she ignored it. She casually settled into the makeup station beside Flár. In a moment of bravery, Bri swung her legs up and onto Flár's lap as she leaned back into the chair.

  
“I think we all feel that sometimes,” Bri admitted, refusing to look Flár in the eyes, “We get so caught up in the glitz and glam of being on stage, in costumes, acting as if we're something we're not that we forget who we are. What we are. What we want out of life.”

 

Flár raised an eyebrow in curiosity, relaxing in the chair so Bri's legs rested more comfortably in her lap, “What do you want out of life?”

 

Bri's face lit up with a sad smile, “A family. Eventually. I'll have a little girl named Berett that I'll protect from the world so fiercely she won't have to resort to show dancing like I did. I'll have a nice little house on Xander and raise her there, far from places like this….”

 

Bri sighed dreamily, having already accepted that it was a dream that could never come true. She glanced toward Flár, “What about you?”

 

Flár let out a long, tired breath, “Acceptance. Freedom. I just… hate the way people look at me. I left my home to away from it and hoped that the Libidine would be more accepting, only to find out they only like me if I use the glamor to make them,” she glanced down at her bloodied fist _. Except for Yondu._

 

Bri could tell that was only partly the reason – _acceptance_ was just another word for _love._ It was something everyone craved at some level, there was just few that could accept that that was what they wanted out of life. To love and be loved in return. Something that just doesn't simply happen at the Libidine, yet judging from Flár's expression and the emotions in her voice, she had the most unsettling understanding that it was something Flár never received before.

 

Bri's expression became more pitiful and broken as she heard Flár's words, “If they hated you at – wherever you're from – I don't think you can call it a home.”

 

Flár gave the first smile Bri had ever seen on her during her time at the Libidine.


	6. Don't Tell Mama (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Libidine had a new performer – from Terra of all places – and Asta had to admit that the human had her moments
> 
> Song Paired With Chapter:  
> Don't Tell Mama by Natasha Richardson (Cabaret Soundtrack) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64O77DC3F4k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this takes place way before the first GtGg movie, this places Earth (Terra) somewhere in the late 1960s to the early 1970s. Peter wasn't born until 1980 for timeline reference.

Terrans, from Terra, or Earth, were not particularly common. You had humans here and there, scattered through out the galaxy like roaches, but there was hardly any that were from Terra itself, nevertheless actually grew up there. But Dav had always said he wanted nothing but the best and the exotic for his 'theater', but they never expected him to show up with the Libidine's first, and only, Terran performer.

  
She was small, Asta noticed, and the clothes she wore were large and oversized, making her seem even smaller. Her cheeks were sunken in and a tad hollow with deep bags under her eyes. For a moment, Asta wondered just how _young_ this performer was, if Dav was messed up enough to get someone under their planet's legal age.

 

As soon as she was in costume, doubts about her being underage left Asta's mind. She was young, definitely – her breasts were still too perky and bright – but she had to be an adult. But no matter how adult she looked when she was all dressed up, _everyone_ watched her first performance closely to decide whether or not she actually belonged at the Libidine. Dav had made mistakes before.

 

But her performance was… interesting. Quirky, Asta believed, but it suited her. It wasn't as sultry as Lilac's _All That Jazz_ number nor as wickedly seducing as Asta's own _Little Wicked_ nor was it the perfect blend of inspiring and sexy as Bri's _Roxie._ The Terran – _what was her name again? -_ performed with an enticing innocence that made Asta wonder how many issues she had with her family. Not like she was one to talk, but the girl's _Don't Tell Mama_ all but screamed _ISSUES._ The Terran sang a song meant for a sexually mature woman putting on this facade of an innocent young girl, not wanting her mother to find out the innocence of her child had been destroyed. But it had its charm – a weird one, but it was there.

 

“So how did Dav dig you up?”

 

Asta looked through the reflection of her mirror, absently applying more lipstick as she watched the scene behind her. Darby was sitting backwards on a chair as she faced the Terran with her arms on the back of the chair, her chin resting on her hands as looked up curiously.

 

“Well I wouldn't say he dug me up so much as I found him and pegged him to give me a shot,” she answered honestly with a shrug.

 

“But how does a Terra-born, Terra-raised, _Terran_ end up in space,” Darby insisted, “I thought your species was pretty… _land-locked.”_

 

Asta stopped acting as if she was busy applying makeup to bluntly turn around to listen in. She wasn't the only one. Gaia was trying to be 'sneaky' in the corner, listening in closely, with Cora at her side looking a bit abashed at Gaia's bad attempt at trying not to be noticed. Lilac was standing beside Darby's chair, leaning on her shoulder as she waited for an answer. Bri snuck up on the other side of the Terran with a friendly grin as she leaned against the Terran's mirror. Kaci sat on the counter, leaning forward with a large, excited grin that showed up sharp nail-like teeth. Asta had a bit of respect for the human for not even being phased at the attention nor the way the others crowded her.

 

“Abduction,” the Terran snorted in laughter, “They wanted to sell me into slavery.”

  
“Did they,” Darby whispered, leaning forward with more intensity, her eyes wide at the mention of being sold. The Terran simply laughed.

  
“They couldn't after they found out that Terran drugs are the _best shit_ _around_ and apparently, there's no market for it yet this far out so they found a new product that's selling damn well. I'd never been more thankful for the bag I always keep on me,” she dug into a hidden pocket of the Burlesque skirt and pulled out a small plastic bag with herbs, “They abducted me, we got high, and they decided that it'd be a fuckton easier to just sell Terran drugs than deal with a stoned out slave. But it worked out, they paid me for the bag I had on me and then went to Terra for more. They deal to me for free if I give them information on the drugs they pick up.”  


Her grin turned wicked, “I definitely got the better end of the deal.”

 

She didn't protest when Kaci snatched the bag out of her hand and inspected it closely. Asta suspected if she had direct ties to the dealers that gave her the drugs for free then it wouldn't be too big of an issue if someone snatched her stock. Kaci sniffed at the bag and eyeballed it with uncertainty before handing it off to Lilac to look at it. The bag got passed around between the group, with the Terran looking pretty excited or smug about it – Asta couldn't quite tell, she had red rings in her eyes that made it harder to see what she was really feeling beyond the drugs she was clearly on at that moment. _Of course she's drugged up, that's the real reason she doesn't care if the bag is tossed about._ Asta raised an eyebrow when Cora looked like she was about to toss it over – she quickly tossed it to Darby instead.

 

“Not interested,” the Terran's eyes locked onto Asta.

 

“I don't indulge in drugs,” Asta said simply, “Clouds the senses too much.”

 

That last thing she needed was to loose control and freeze over the Libidine. Favorite or not, she knew Dav wouldn't let her off easy if that happened.

 

“What? You scared that stupid glamor of yours will drop,” Gaia's snarky voice cut through the air, causing Asta to scowl.

 

“Glamor,” the Terran raised the question with furrowed brows, “Shit, didn't know there was any fairies.”

 

Asta's attention snapped to the human with a befuddled expression, “I – What? I'm not a fairy?”

It seemed like all she did was blink before the Terran girl had pulled out a small glass pipe and everyone watched in mild fascination at the use of Terran drugs. There were many different types of drugs that had spread through the galaxy, all with their own uses and side effects. The Kree had a particularly nasty one that, while it did enhance senses and cause temporary stronger muscles, could easily end in death after the first use if one tried to lift things that they couldn't handle – it impaired common sense enough that it happened quite frequently to first time users. Everyone knew of the small stack of what, at first glance, looked like small marble squares that was hidden deep in Lilac's dresser drawer. Another common occurrence was certain species getting broken jaws from attempting to chew the hard, stony drug as it was made for a Kree's stronger teeth and jaw strength.

 

But the Terran made it look so easy.

 

“Marijuana,” the girl said simply, a lazy grin on her face as she passed the pipe to an eager-looking Kaci, “It's a relaxation drug, makes people mellow out, if you only do a little bit, every now and then. You just smoke it through a pipe. Just makes the mind a bit,” she gestured toward her skull, “...Fuzzy.”

 

 _I 'll say,_ Asta crossed her arms against her chest. It was pretty clear to her that Dav had alternative motives for the girl – her drugs could mellow out a lot of patrons and lead to more money being put right into his pocket if he played it right. She had a feeling it would bite him, and the Terran, in the ass sometime in the future. Not all species appreciated being offered drugs, some seeing it as a religious sin while others were too prideful.

  
“Gaia,” Kaci coughed a bit before tossing the pipe toward the girl with a grin, “You have to try this, maybe your ass will finally relax enough that we can get your head out.”

 

Gaia scowled deeply, but still caught the pipe and sniffed at it cautiously before taking a smoke. Aside from Asta, Lilac was the only who refused the drug. Lilac turned to Asta with a cynical look,

  
“Who knows what Darby will do on this stuff, someone has to watch over her and I have a feeling it's not going to be you.”

 

Dav had walked into many different, what others would even call odd, scenes that made him feel a variety of different emotions. Nothing, however, made him as confused as the day he walked into a dressing room of smoke with a majority of his performers giggling and playing with each other's hairs (or in Cora's case, just rubbing hands on her skull, or in Kaci's case, playing with her tentacles) as his star performer stood growling with a hand wrapped around his Kree's throat – something the others didn't even seem to acknowledge.

 

He liked to think he did the right thing by simply walking back out and deciding that tonight was going to be one of the few closed days he allowed.

 

* * *

 

 

Even after weeks of being there, Asta still could not, for the life of her, remember the Terran girl's name. It plagued her, but she wasn't going to swallow down her pride enough to ask around. It didn't stop her from lingering in the hall between the VIP rooms and the private backstage dressing room – the girls' private bedrooms, which were much smaller than the VIP rooms yet good for storing personal belongings, were on the other side of the stage.

 

She hoped if she lingered through enough that maybe she'd simply overhear the girl's names or that one day, Dav would finally put up the little plaque on the Terran's door that labeled it as hers. Though she supposed it wouldn't help too much considering the plaques on the doors in the VIP area only read their stage names so unless the Terran only went by one name, as Asta had taken up her stage name, then it would be fairly useless. The girls had a rule about not using stage names with each other in private and considering that they believe Flar is Asta's real name rather than just a stage name, it worked.

 

“ _Choke me harder, Daddy,”_ the Terran girl's voice groaned out through her door, causing Asta to freeze in her steps and lean closer to the door, with a slight sense of disgust and confused arousal. _“Please Daddy.”_

 

She stepped away from the door, furrowing her brows as she slowly began to cut through the dressing room to the other side of the stage so she could burrow herself in her private room. She felt she'd need a lot of time alone to figure this one out.

 

* * *

 

 

The Terran had the nerve to laugh at her when Asta approached her three days later, tentatively and carefully asking about what she heard the other night. She would have asked sooner, but she had to wait until she could catch the Terran sober, without the drugs or booze in her system. She wanted a real answer, not a giggly one or a slurred _fuck off._ The Terran had a lot of fun, it seemed.

 

“It's a kink, Flár,” the Terran waved off Asta's confusion and growing anger, “It wasn't actually my dad, _ew by the way,_ it's just…. Roleplay, I guess. There's a lot of guys who get off on it, girls too really. Sometimes _sir_ just doesn't cut it, ya know? I don't really enjoy it that much, but damn do the guys here really react to it. They get generous when you put up that submissive act and put them in a position of power.”

 

She looked at Asta with a twisted gleam in her eyes, “Maybe you try it sometime with that Centaurian I've heard about. How are they in bed, anyway? Kaci told me there's not a lot of them left and that Terran bodies aren't quite made to handle their extra body heat.”

“Oh,” realization dawned on her as her eyes went wide, “That ice thing you do must _really_ come in handy.”

 

Asta could feel a hot flush spread on her cheeks, but there her previous anger at being laughed at had mostly vanished, only to be replaced with an odd sense of giddiness. She heard a lot of the other girls giggle as they gossiped about the people they bedded – mostly in good nature and usually put their partners in a positive light. But none of them had ever actually engaged her in the conversations.

 

“He's pretty damn good,” Asta admitted, a smile spreading on her face as she thought about him, “He's so… _rough._ I cut up his back pretty damn good last time and I still have this bite mark between my thighs that I've been struggling to cover with the makeup.”

 

The other girl hummed, a knowing look in her eye, “Yeah, you should _definitely_ try that daddy thing with him. I have a feeling you both will like it _very_ much...”  
  
There was a low beat of music signaling a cue, causing the Terran to curse as she hurried away toward the stage.

  
“Shit, I forgot Kaci and I had that duet in ten – see ya, Flár,” she turned to look over her shoulder once as she rushed, “And don't cover the bite marks – it adds to the sex appeal!”

* * *

 

 

Asta thought long and hard about how she was going to bring up the _daddy_ kink, of all things, to Yondu. She still hadn't decided on how to do it when he showed up at the Libidine, his eyes locking right into hers as soon as he spotted her. He was already heading to the VIP rooms when her song ended.

 

She bit her lip and hesitated at the door to her VIP room, Flár glaring at her on the name plaque. _Treacherous snake,_ a voice whispered and she had to shake it out of her system before she entered the room, even if it broke the door handle in the process. She knew that Dav would replace it again, even if he'd do so with more than a few curses aimed toward her.

 

Yondu was already undressed when she entered the room, laying comfortably naked on her bed with a knowing smirk. His eyes were right on her as she entered, taking in the beautiful sight before him as a low rumble built in his throat. Her heart raced in her chest, but she continued to stride forward with the same swing in her hips as usual. Her corset and undergarments were disregarded along the way, making a trail to the bed.

 

She carefully laid on top of his lap and hesitated before she began anything, her mind still plagued with how to bring it up in a way that wouldn't offend him. Her hestiation didn't go unnoticed as Yondu gently placed his hands on her hips, looking at her with deep concern.

 

“Darlin',” he spoke a bit firmly to get her attention on him, “Flár, ya alright? I'd be mighty disappointed, but we don't have to have sex just because we're together. I don't do any of that cuddling shit and nonsense, but there ain't no harm listenin' to ya if somethin' on ya mind.”

 

Asta raised her head high, straightening her shoulders as she looked Yondu dead in the eyes.

  
“Can I call you _daddy?”_

 

Out of all the things he had anticipated to hear – everything from _can we stop for tonight_ to _I don't want to see you anymore –_ he didn't expect that. He scowled deeply, his hands going back to support him as he leaned back away from her.

  
“Now wait just a damn minute, _girlie,_ I ain't no one's _daddy.”_

 

Asta winched, her own face scrunching up with disgust, “Not that type of daddy, I just – _fucking hell,_ we have that new Terran girl, did your see her? I heard her one night saying that to one of her guys and she explained that it was a kink and...”

 

She took a deep breath and when she looked back at Yondu, her eyes were more determined. There was a cold chill against his thighs as her hands gripped them tightly, leaning dangerously forward as she took a leap of faith.

  
“ _Fuck me hard, daddy_ _~”_

 

He shuddered with a low growl, _well I'll be damned if that ain't the hottest thing I've heard._ His body flushed hotly, clashing against her cold flesh. His member pressed hard between her legs, causing her to let out a long, drawn out moan as it pressed right against her pussy. The moan caused Yondu to snap, grabbing her harshly and flipping them over, adjusting their position until her face pressed against the bed with her ass firmly in the air. He was right behind her with a fist full of her hair, tugging lightly, another hand tightly grasped at her waist.

 

She was already dripping wet, letting him enter her with ease as she let out a loud moan. A wicked growl escaped from his lips as he let go of her hair to give her ass a light smack, causing her to gasp. The darker blue tint, hinted with a dash of pink, that formed from the slap fascinated him. He slapped it again as he drove into her.

 

“ _Oh fuck, daddy, fuck me.”_ Her voice was barely even audible, mixing with moans that muffled into the bed.

 

Excitement shook through every inch of her body with each thrust, each slap, each hair tug. _Fucking hell that Terran was right._

 


	7. Her Name Was Mia (Mildly NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Terran girl didn't last long in Libidine, but at least Asta got a threesome out of it.
> 
> Song Paired With Chapter:  
> I Can't Do It Alone by Catherine Zeta-Jones (Chicago) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmRDYHu1BMw

Her name was Mia and it was a shame she didn't last long at the Libidine.

 

But Asta swore she'd never forget the name again as Kaci ran out of the Terran's room, frantically crying to the point it was hard for her to speak. There was a sense of dread, that something horrible happened, and she was right. Moments later, they all flocked to Mia's room to find her corpse in a bloodied mess on the bed. A Kree was passed out in the corner, smelling of sex, blood, and liquor, snoring with a bloody smashed liquor bottle in his hand that matched the pieces of glass embedded into Mia's skull.

 

Darby had cried into Lilac's chest, with Lilac rubbing circles on her girlfriend's back with narrowed, angry eyes as if she was hoping she could burn the Kree in his place with just a stare. Gaia didn't say nor do anything, simply turn head away with a forlorn expression as Cora took her hand. Kaci was hysterical, tentacles covering her face as she howled at the loss. Bri awkwardly patted her back, but there were tears gathering in the corner of her own eyes.

 

“He did this.”

  
Asta's voice cut through the hysteria, eyes locked on the man passed in the corner. Her comment earned understanding, accepted, yet sad nods and stares. Asta hardly noticed the way their eyes bore into her as she walked to the Kree, her eyes burning with fury. There was a harsh chill in the room that made the others shiver, but it didn't stop Bri from calling in concern.

  
“Flár, don't wake him, we don't know what he's capable of. He could hurt - “

 

She didn't wake him and the moment it became clear that that wasn't her plan, everyone lost their breath to speak. Frost and ice began to turn him into an icy, stone statue, frozen in place. He had woken up, briefly, just before the frost spread to his head and he let out a horrible, furious roar before his face had frozen in place. He was a statue. An ugly, furious, bloody reminder.

  
“Flár,” Bri spoke quietly, but Asta didn't stop nor hesitate when her fist went straight through his skull, shattering it into pieces. 

 

They should have been a bit concerned about the nonchalant ease in which Asta had done that task, but they felt a bit uneasy before breathing a sigh of relief at the obvious death. Lilac nodded her approval of the action, even if it did cause Darby to cry a bit harder. Asta was dusting her hands off with a nonchalant poker face that hid the burn in her eyes as Dav walked in.

 

Dav didn't have to have anyone tell him what happened – he could put the pieces together quite easily, though the appearance of a frozen, shattered Kree did startle him somewhat as Asta stood close to it and didn't even seem phased. He almost felt as he should be concerned over her lack of emotion toward the action she committed, but brushed it off knowing that everyone around in these parts weren't so morally uptight and had more than likely committed more than a few crimes – he just didn't expect such a big crime to be held in the Libidine, first by a patron killing off one of his girls to one of said girls killing the patron. He couldn't say he disapproved.

 

“I'll get a clean up crew in here and have this entire room emptied out.”

  
No one moved an inch until he barked at them to go get ready to perform. Asta breezed past Dav with an unnerving calm and the shudder that went through him was not from the chill that followed her.

 

* * *

 

 

No one's performances were as good as they should have been, leaving everyone to feel a bit off and oddly disappointed, a few patrons even feeling strangely fearful of Lilac's strong, forceful moves and bends that screamed _anger_ and Asta's oddly calm demeanor that contrasted against dangerous eyes.

 

No spoke up any complaints – everyone saw the clean up crew leaving the area through the back door and rumor spread fast that the only Terran performer wasn't going to be performing _anywhere_ anymore. Any comments about said dancer earned a hard punch from that Kree dancer that landed you on the floor fairly fast. The unlucky ones got headbutted by none other than the star performer, hard enough that they were knocked out _cold_ as soon as they hit the ground. 

 

Everyone's mouths were shut fairly fast and the only information Yondu got a hold of on his way to the Libidine was that one of the performers had died  from a violent patron.  The crew were wise enough to not say anything when their trip to Libidine had been put on a rush, landing them much sooner than usual.  Their captain had a girl there, they knew, and they weren't stupid enough to make any smart comments.  Their captain gave them their orders to be dismissed, but his walk to the Libidine had been a quick walk at best, a jo g at worse. Kraglin followed quick behind him, his heart racing as he feared the worst. 

 

Kraglin  wasn't sure what his captain would do if his favorite songbird was killed by a patron. No, he knew what he would do, he'd kill whomever killed her in the worst way possible. A death by his arrow was fast and merciful, but everyone knew Captain knew how to make death horrible and drawn out, torturing them until they begged for it..  _But it ain't gonna be fun for Cap',_ Kraglin swallowed thickly and watched his captain carefully. The others believed that their captain simply had a pretty little favorite, but Kraglin could see past it. He could see the fear in his captain's eyes, he could see the  _anguish_ in his pace, terrified she was the one who had perished.  _She's somethin' else._ He could feel it deep within that this girl, that  Flár,  was something so much more than a pretty thing on the arm.  _Maybe if she's not the one who got killed Captain should get 'er somethin' sometime._ _Them pretty girls like pretty gifts, makes them feel all nice,_ he idly wondered,  _maybe a nice hat or somethin'._

 

The doors of the Libidine swung open as Yondu all but burst in, a frantic panic in his eyes and a deep snarl on his face for anyone who dared to look at him funny. The lights had began to dim and a performer went onto stage, but it wasn't _his_ performer. An a'askavariian stood on stage with weary eyes, and a plastered smile. He'd seen her a few times when he'd come in, but he couldn't quite remember her name. He heard enough to know that the song she sang was one of mourning, hidden by an upbeat rhythm with a dance to match.

 

He ignored her. He headed straight into the back area, not afraid of pushing and shoving patrons as he went, Kraglin trying his best to follow in his steps yet having trouble with a few of the bigger patrons. He sheepishly stuck very close to the Captain's heels.

 

Yondu's sudden appearance backstage startled more than a few of the performers, but he quickly scanned the area looking for her.  _ She's not here, she's not here.  _ He snarled harshly and grabbed the nearest performer – a Krylorian who let out a shriek when he grabbed her wrist to pull her toward him. Her eyes portrayed pure terror and  were b loodshot from the tears still bristling in her eyes. 

 

He was about to demand to know where  Flár  was , if she was okay. It was right on his tongue when he got ripped away from the girl.  A fierce, familiar, icy grip on his wrist pulling him off of her as if he were nothing. He felt light as a feather when his feet reached off the ground as he got yanked backward, tumbling a bit on his feet in surprise at the ease of such a move. He was prepared to scream, curse, and shout, but stopped short when he saw red eyes staring right back at him in shock. 

 

“Yondu,” she whispered softly, her eyebrows furrowing, briefly flickering to the flustered Kraglin in the corner, trying his damn hardest to not oogle too much at some of the more exposed performers who were between costumes. She shook her head and turned toward the Krylorian, “Go ahead and get ready for your performance, Bri. You're on after Kaci. I'll take care of this, but if anyone grabs you again - “

 

“- I know,” Bri whispered, tucking her head down, “Scream for you and you'll take care of it.”

 

Flá r gave a curt nod,  satisfied at the answer before turning back to Yondu as Bri quickly flickered away to get ready, putting as much distance as she could from Yondu.  Flár  briefly looked around at the other performers and scowled deeply before giving Yondu a harsh push, pushing him out into the hall separating the VIP room areas and the backstage dressing room.  Kraglin winced, but followed suit, giving a quick apology to the performers before he ducked out. 

 

“ What the hell do you think you're doing,”  Flár  screeched at him, waving a finger in his face, “Pulling a stunt like that right after Mia's death, you're lucky it was me that came over. Lilac doesn't care how often you've come in, no one touches the dancers unless it's in a room with consent. She would have  _ killed _ you for that -”

 

She was silenced with a deep kiss that  made her melt, moaning into his mouth when his tongue dipped between her lips. His hands dug into her hips and pulled her close. He parted the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. She could feel the way his hands shook against her.

  
“I didn't know who died,” he admitted, “I didn't mean to cause any ruckus, but I had to make sure you were okay.”

 

Flár  closed her eyes, relaxing in his grasp as she pressed up against him, daring to wrap her hands around him and pull him into a tight hug. His hands slid from her hips to around her back, returning the hug with a fierce tightness that made her gasp. 

 

“This Mia girl,” he whispered, “She the one who died? Do I gotta take care of the one who did it for ya? Is he gonna be a problem around 'ere for you and 'em other girls?”

 

Flár  pulled away from the hug, just enough to be able to look into his eyes as she shook her head, “No, no, I took care  of  it .” 

 

A wicked gleam entered her eyes as she smirked, pressing against him as much as she could as her hand lightly went down the side of his face; it was the only warning he got before her other hand groped him at the front of his pants.

 

“I'm pretty strong, you know,” her voice turned low and sultry, “I can take care of myself.”

 

He made a rumbling chuckle in the back of his throat, his expression mimicking her smirk.  His nails dug into her sides, “I bet you can, girlie.”

 

There was an awkward cough and Yondu scowled, turning his head sharply to see Kraglin shifting on his feet in the back, a red flush on his cheeks.

 

“Am I uh,” Kraglin's voice was on the brink of cracking and he tried desperately hard to not look too much at  Flár  with his Captain so nearby – there was a reason he had been going off to the nearby sex stop instead.  Flár  must have been changing in between costumes like a majority of the other performers. Her undergarments left little to the imagination, the white lace barely covering the peek of  a nipple. “Am I excused, Captain?”

 

Yondu was about to shout to tell him off, but was cut short by  Flár,  who put a finger to his lips to stop him from saying anything brash. She eyed Kraglin up and down carefully, slowly, before she turned to Yondu with a questioning expression,  
  
“If he wants to stay, he can, as long as we get out of the hall and into my room so we're not in the way of the others… And if he won't mind the cold. ”

 

Kraglin felt as if he couldn't breathe, every muscle in his body tensing as intense fear washed over him. He held his breath with a sharp intake, daring to look at  Flár  a bit closer, getting a good enough look that his pants already felt tight. He turned to his Captain, waiting for him to shout and curse, but instead Yondu merely looked a bit disgruntled.

  
“If it makes you happy,” he finally spoke up before turning to Kraglin again, “You in or out, boy?”

 

Kraglin debated about what the right answer was. He could say no, be on his way, but then it was possible that  Flár  would be upset and that would, in turn, make Captain upset. He could say yes and Captain could later get angry at him for seeing his girl. He glanced between the two before he swallowed thickly and shook his head. 

 

_Fuck yes._

 

* * *

 

 

“Bullshit.”

 

The guys had gathered around Kraglin, whose chest had deflated at the skeptic looks his buddies exchanged before bursting out into laughter.

  
“There's no fuckin' way,” Horzu blew off Kraglin's story easily, “Cap' would never share his precious little bird.”

 

Agreements made through way through the group as Kraglin's shoulder began to go slack. He looked at all of them with desperate pleading, wanting at least one of them to believe him.

 

“Sorry, bud,” Martinex patted Kraglin's back hard enough for him to stumble forward, “But there is just no fucking way you had a threesome with the Cap' and that doll in Libidine.”

 

Kraglin's weak protests went unheard as his friends began to disperse to their positions, leaving Kraglin sagging in place,

 

“B- But it really happened. Guys. Guys, come on. _Guys.”_


	8. Soft Spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You had to slow down sometimes, more often so for some, to remember the good things in life and learn an appreciation for them.
> 
> Song Paired With Chapter: Breathe Into Me by Marian Hill https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nmc-udBbNBw

_The most beautiful girl in the galaxy,_ Yondu breathed slowly as he laid down the same bed that he'd gotten quite used to. It felt like a block of ice was curled beside his body, an icy limb limp across his chest and breasts at perfect eye level with a head curling down just above his. It brought him comfort and cooled down his body to a more comfortable temperature – a temperature that was hard to accomplish without his specialized suit.  He laid an arm gently around her  waist .  _And she's all mine._

 

His eyes swept the room – her room was different than the VIP room, yet at the same time, it was still so _bare_ of personal belongings, anything that he could possibly see that would give him a hint on what landed her in Libidine in the first place – it was the one question she refused to answer. But the room is more personalized than the one he had grown used to. The frost and ice covered more space with sparkles freezing the ground to the bed, creating a beautiful pathway to it. Icicles had formed from the ceiling to form a dangerous, hard curtain around the bed. There were spiked edges peeking from the floor in the corner that he was cautious of when they had done it against the freezing wall.

 

In the end, he supposed it didn't matter much how she ended up where she was. Just that she was there now.

 

He glanced down toward the woman, admiring the way her chest rose and fell at a steady pace. Their skin, their bodies, felt perfect this close together.  When they were like this, he could see every sparkle on her skin and rightly admire the beautiful patterns and how they shaped along each curve and dipped in all the right places.  He felt… happy. When he was like this, it was a strange, foreign feeling that made his skin sting, his heart to race, and his  palms to sweat. He didn't quite understand it, wasn't even sure if he liked it, but  he felt empty on his ship waiting for the moment in which his crew could stop on the small planet again. 

 

His crew  knew he had a showgirl  at Libidine. When word spread that it was the star performer, he dealt with weeks  and weeks of hollering, whistles, cat-calls and pats on the backs as the boys kept asking on details on how she was in bed and if they could borrow her sometime. Or rather, one of them had asked to borrow her and it landed him with a hole through his heart that caused him to drop to the ground. The teasing stopped after that. 

 

K raglin had warned him, more than once, to be careful with the showgirl, that she may steal from him or have alternative motives and at first, Yondu was wary of it himself. But as he looked down at the vulnerable woman sleeping soundly on his chest, a woman he knew little about aside from her being at the Libidine and her abilities over ice, he knew there was no alternative motives she was hiding. 

 

But none of the guys were around. No one was around. He still glanced around through the corners of his eyes, as if expecting one of them to pop up at any moment. Satisfied the area was clear, he reached down to place a kiss on he r shoulder – with her being taller, he couldn't quite reach their forehead from their position. His eyes lingered much lower at the hickeys, small bite marks, and the bruises that littered down her neck and chest. There were more, he was sure, and he smirked to himself, proud he could do that to her.

 

His thumb grazed against a sensitive spot on her hip, tracing a pattern line that laid there. There was a sharp intake of breath and he smirked against her skin as he leaned and began to plant slow, tender kisses along the pattern lines down her chest. She stirred and  shuddered under his touch. He continued until he felt her arm wrap around him and pull him closer.  He placed a few bites along the area between her breasts and she trembled, letting out breathy groans into his ears. He remembered when she told him how sensitive her markings were, as if it were a secret sin, and he enjoyed taking advantage of it. His hand followed the line on her hip to the ones along her lower back, going up to mid-back before he stopped. 

 

He ran his hand over it again, slower, easier, and he could feel it. Rough patches of skin that lined up close to her marking, some going right over it, and he wondered how he never noticed it before.  There were many of them. He could feel each one of them. Some mangled into the embedded patterns, some were softer and lighter than others. He knew what they were. He didn't have to turn around to see to know exactly what they were. 

 

A deep sense of dread settled in his gut. _Whips._ His own scars ached just thinking about it. But he ignored it, focusing on the anger dwelling in his chest. Asta had tensed in his grip, unmoving as if she were holding her breath.

 

“Flár,” he said her name like a soft, gentle whisper, but there was a harsh undertone that made her flinch, “ _Who did this to you?”_

 

He could feel the scars beneath his fingertips growing softer, blending, molding, back into her skin and his anger grew as he moved away from her with a snarl  His eyes narrowing dangerously at her as she shrunk away from him.

  
“ _Don't ya dare use that glamor magic mumbo-jumbo to make them go away,”_ he roared, his voice rumbling through the room, “ _Who the fuck did this to you? I'll kill them.”_

 

Her skin burned as she snarled back at him, growling and hissing with sharp teeth glinting in warning. The chill in the air grew stronger. He didn't care, he asked her again with more strength and anger, demanding to know who do it and what happened. He wanted them _dead._ She didn't care either, frost forming along her sharp nails.

 

“It doesn't matter,” she spat, but that only caused his anger to grow.

  
She didn't go down easy, snapping her teeth at him as he lunched for her, matching his growling to hers as he pinned down against the bed, “Of course it fucking matters! I - “

 

He looked down, deep into her eyes, and he regretted it. He regretted to see the terror, fear, anger, and _absolute pain_ prowling in her eyes that made him reign back his anger. He took in a deep breath and when he looked at her again, it was softer and she relaxed underneath him.

  
“I don't want nothin' to be hurtin' ya, girlie,” It was hard for him to admit, but he did so with hooded eyes looking up at her as he placed his hands gently on her shoulders, the ice stinging into his palm. “Who did this to ya?”

 

Asta curled back away from him, turning her head away as she refused to look him in the eyes. If she looked into his eyes, she'd cave. She'd tell the truth. She was a trickster, or at least she had the blood of one, but she was not a liar. She bit her lower lip hard enough it bled. She glanced at him and that was enough to make her come undone.

 

“Where I come from,” she spoke slowly and carefully chose her words, “I am not… liked. People do not like me because I am not… purebred. I am just part of them, but my other half is what makes me look different from them.”

 

Yondu's chest ached as he stared at her, carefully taking in each of her words.

  
“A halfbreed,” he breathed, “I'll be damned.”

 

Hybrids were not unheard of, but a majority of inter-species couples could not bare children. He couldn't think about that thought for too long – when he let his mind wander, he'd sometimes think what it'd be like to have kids with her, she said she had ways of keeping herself from getting kids as if she knew that they'd be compatible. But her species was so vastly _unknown, different,_ and obviously not from around any nearby star system. He may be able to _sleep_ with her, but their compatibility for children wasn't something he personally thought they'd be capable of.

 

His eyes ran over her body before falling back on her eyes.

  
“Ya skin is different from theirs.”

 

Asta slowly nodded her head as he released his pin on her, favoring to simply lay beside her. She wasted no time to huddle close to him, baring her face into his chest to hide any stray tears, ignoring his small protests of the intimacy – they were still miles away from such emotional intimacy. He swallowed down any curses when it became clear she wasn't going to move anytime soon. His hand settled back on her back, sighing deeply at the feeling of rough scars against his palm.

 

“I hate my skin,” she whispered, “My father uses glamor so he doesn't have to see his own, but he hates it when he sees mine even more. He was hoping that I'd take more after my mother.”

 

The implications were clear and it made Yondu tremble at the anger that surged through his bones. He only calmed, slightly, as Asta's hand lightly traced patterns over his chest.

 

“The glamor I use when I perform,” she explained, “There's so many complexities to it and I took a form that blended in with the people around me, but it took strong concentration to uphold it, concentration I just don't have. The one I use here at Libine molds itself to whomever looks at me, taking their concentration not mine. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so to say.”

  
He wasn't interested in what form she used to hide – he wasn't ever going to ask her. He enjoyed the way she was now with him.

  
“You're pretty damn beautiful without it,” he admitted, “But ya be much better off _here_ than wherever the fuck you're from.”

 

_Here._

 

_With me._


	9. Expansion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilac needed her help, but not for protection, Bri just needed advice and a hug, and Cora is still a bitch but Asta's going to help her anyway and told herself it's because another performer dying would be bad for business – unless that performer is Gaia.
> 
> Song(s) Paired with Chapter:  
> First half of chapter - No Scrub by Joanna Jones https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G2WEogDFByk  
> First half after first line break - Welcome to Cabaret https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QS1l1mSDSo

 Asta noticed the change of dynamics between her and the other girls. The way Lilac seemed to look to her, as if asking for permission, before she beat some sleaze at the bar. The way Kaci tagged behind her like a lost, sad puppy dog. She learned to not give any hugs after a few tentacles took a week to thaw. Darby actually apologized, she didn't explain quite for what but Asta suspected it was for the way she seemed to go along with whatever lies Gaia spewed, and like Kaci, tagged along behind Asta often. Cora seemed to keep a closer eye on her and never seemed to wander where Asta couldn't easily reach her. Gaia was more disgruntled than usual, but seemed to stay closer to Asta during certain hours of the night or when certain patrons had entered. Bri didn't change much, but she was one of the few who had never treated Asta too differently.

 

Asta hesitated to call anyone but Bri a friend – Lilac, _maybe_ , but she sensed that it was more respect that the other girl felt toward her rather than friendship. She still wasn't too sure about the change, but took it in stride as it made it easier to keep an eye on everyone. She didn't want any of the girls to run screaming again and she made sure they knew that for as long as she was there at the Libidine, she'd easily freeze and break anyone who ever hurt them or made them uncomfortable.

 

Ironically enough, the ability that kept a majority of them away from her, now drew them in.

 

On the bright side, it saved Dav money for security guards. Between Asta's cold fury and Lilac's threatening size and demeanor, a majority of the patrons got the idea fast to not pull any stunts – whether it was against the girls or a bar fight gone bad. It drew in more customers and even more potential dancers with the safer environment. Asta had seen two _male_ Xanderians, a nice-looking Krylorian, and an Aakon go to Dav within the last two weeks over potential jobs. Dav was just raking in the money, which worked out well for them. Newer, better made costumes, better rooms, and higher pay.

 

 

“I need help.”

  
Asta turned sharply from her spot in front of the mirror to eye Cora carefully, eying her up and down as if she would lash out at her. Cora shifted on her feet, refusing to meet Asta's eyes as she looked down toward the ground. Her arms wrapped tightly around her.

 

“There's this big Kree guy in the crowd tonight,” Cora whispered, “He came in by himself and has been making eyes at me all night. I haven't been able to sleep at night after what happened to Mia, but this is worse. He won't stop following me around and I think the only reason he didn't follow me back here is because Dav is wandering the halls to make sure everyone is where they're supposed to be.”

  
She took in a deep breath, “Dav's still revamping my VIP Room and I can't get to my bedroom, Gaia locked the door connecting the dressing area to our bedrooms from that side of the stage, something about how she was paranoid someone would sneak in that way when she took a nap. Kaci is currently drinking her way to victory in a poker game with some of the patrons. Bri is busy with a guy in her VIP room, Lilac just went into hers with some of Mia's leftover drugs and Darby is performing.”

 

She looked up at Asta with startling, pleading, yellow eyes and the message was clear. Asta stood from her chair, “If you wanted me to accompany you to our private rooms, you could have just asked. Darby's off in five and I have time to spare before I go on. Do you need me to go over and wake you up when I get done?”

 

Asta was already leading Cora out of the dressing area, past the VIP Rooms, and out the hall toward the crowd they'd have to move past to get to the other side of the stage to access the private bedrooms. Cora had nodded her head yes, but didn't voice any thanks for the wake up call. Asta didn't need to hear one to know that she appreciated it.

 

As soon as the entered the open crowded area in front of the stage, Asta could spot the large Kree. He was bigger than the others that had come in and his eyes were already planted firmly on Cora, though he briefly glanced over Asta with an unabashed lust. She rolled her eyes and motioned for Cora to stick close to her.

 

They were only half way to the door that'd lead them to the private bedrooms when the Kree had stepped in front of their path.

  
“Hey there, girlies,” Asta winched at the nickname, but he continued undisturbed, “How much do I have to pay to get both of you? The Aakon is cute and all, but damn, to get to fuck her and the Libidine's main attraction would be a pretty good fuck story for some of the other guys. What do you say? Should I pay now or after?”

 

He was just at six feet tall. Asta was only an inch taller with a much frailer frame, but towered over him as if he was only a foot tall with a dangerous gleam in her eyes. She stood firmly in front of him, unmoved by his comment.

  
“If you don't show us respect, you won't ever get any consent and no amount of money is going to change that. If you want a fuck, I suggest the stop next door.”

 

He didn't take too kindly to the comment, snarling at her, baring his teeth in warning just inches from her face. “Who needs consent if I catch you outside, huh? Then it'd be free.”

 

Asta crinkled her nose, waving her hand in front of it, with disgust. “You'd never catch me by surprise smelling that.”

 

She began to walk past him, a quick pace in her step to get Cora away from him, yet when she turned her head, Cora was gone. She scowled deeply at the betrayal as she saw the yellow-skin girl way ahead of her, ducking into the private bedrooms. Asta made a mental note to curse out Cora later, but continued on her way. She only got two steps past the Kree before he grabbed her shoulder.

 

That was all it took for the other patrons to notice. The smart ones created a clear ring around them, giving them plenty of distance and elbow room. The newer ones laughed when the Kree's dark chuckle cut through the ending note of Darby's performance – she caught Asta's eyes when her song ended, looking at her in worry. Asta waved the concern off easily as she looked over toward the Kree. She glanced to the tight grip he had on her shoulder than back at him with narrowed eyes.

 

“You've never been here before,” her voice had enough strength behind it to be heard by everyone around her, watching the spectacle. Her eyes flickered to the guys that watched with grins, waiting for the Kree to do something to do her. “Clearly a lot of you here are new.”

  
She yanked out of the Kree's grasp with ease before turning on him, her hand wrapping tightly around his neck with a growl. He clawed at her hands to no effect as she lifted him a good inch off the ground.

  
“Respect the performers,” her free hand pointed to a poster on the wall – it was faded, but eligible - “It's the first rule, but what's not written down is that if I hear word of you ever so much as looking at one of the girls here funny, I will not hesitate to beat you into a pulp. If I get word you _touched_ _anyone,_ in Libidine or not, without their permission, I _will_ kill you.”

 

His throat was beginning to freeze over and each breath he took was a struggle. The cold sharpness caused him to shudder. Her glamor shook, just enough, for him to get a glance of red eyes against light blue skin and the longer he looked at her, _really_ looked at her, the more he could slowly begin to see past the glamor. He recognized that face – that slender nose, the curve of the chin, she got it all from her father.

 

Fear trembled in his chest as he began to frantically pull and tug, trying desperately to get out. He was a Kree, but he wasn't stupid. He knew no one should mess with the trickster's daughter – Asgardians could cause some damage themselves, but the Jotun were no laughing matter. The treaty with the Asgardians was _ancient,_ but the fear and respect held for the Jotun were even older, almost like a _primal_ need for survival – their strength alone was admirable, but their control over one of the toughest, _cruelest_ elements made them damn near impossible to defeat.

 

He never thought he'd see it for himself. Until now he thought maybe it was just a story – the Jotun hardly ever showed themselves as it was. But there she was, the daughter of the second prince of Asgard – the first prince of Jotunheim - and the granddaughter of Laufey. With her nails digging into his throat as if he were a piece of ripe fruit.

  
When she let go, he fell to the floor in a heap, frantically gasping for air.

 

They never saw him at the Libidine again.

 

The rule poster by the front door was the next thing to get fixed by Dav.

 

* * *

 

 

The day that Gaia got moved from the opening act to a middle act was the happiest day Asta had at the Libidine in a long while. She had openly cheered and took a bottle offered by Bri to celebrate. The fact that Kaci was now opening with her first big solo performance – her first solo, ever, being a nod to her former duet to Mia to 'mourn' the Terran, but it was a one time number – made it even more bittersweet.

 

“What do you mean I have to switch songs,” Gaia screeched at Dav.

 

“Your original song isn't sexy enough.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he could tell it was the wrong thing to say as Gaia's screeching continued. While Dav wasn't perfect, Asta decided she liked him a lot better in that moment. She sat at her mirror stand, a bottle in hand, and she wished she had something to snack on as she sat back and enjoyed the show.

  
This had to be one of the _very_ few times she understood why her father enjoyed what he did. There was just something about watching someone you despised have a shit day, especially if you had nothing to do with it. There was a joyful grin on her face as she offered one of the unopened bottles to Dav, who looked like he desperately needed a drink. Unfortunately, this brought Gaia's attention to her as her eyes snapped toward Asta with burning fury.

  
“ _You,”_ she spat, “You had something to do with this, didn't you? Used some freaky spell so no one would like my act?!”

 

Asta merely laid back in her chair after Dav had taken, and downed, the offered drink. A twisted smirk made its way onto her lips as she chuckled.

 

“Didn't have to, you managed to do that all by yourself. Congratulations, it seems like the patrons have voted you for the worst performer. You must be so proud.”

 

Gaia's body shook as she let out a frustrated screech before she lunged toward Asta, hands outstretched as if she were reaching for her neck. Asta saw it coming from a mile away and chuckled darkly as she stood up and easily side-stepped the furious attack. Gaia hit the chair hard enough for her to tumble over with a pained groan. Cora rushed over to her side to make sure she was okay as Dav shot Asta an exasperated look.

  
“Do I have to keep an eye on you too,” Dav's voice was tired.

 

Asta put a hand to her heart with a feigned hurt expression, “ _Me_? She's the one who lunged.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lilac was the third person at the Libidine – Bri and Yondu being the previous ones – to see Flár without her glamor. It wasn't on purpose. If she were honest, Lilac would admit she felt a bit guilty for sneaking into the star performer's room when she was sleeping. She wasn't trying to catch Flár in her moments of weakness or during anything private. She just needed a condom that could handle a Kronan – that species took _rock hard_ to a whole different level that would've made her nervous if she didn't have a _'small'_ kink for size differences whether it made her the smaller or larger one, as was the case with Darby.

 

Lilac stood in the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her, as Flár laid out, sprawled on her bed with a hand between her legs and eyes toward the ceiling in ecstasy. There was a flicker, a sparkle, that surrounded her, blurring her around the edges and suddenly, she didn't look like Darby anymore – though she was partially grateful for that, she was beginning to find the similarity between the two disturbing.

 

She had a small suspicion about Flár being of Jotunheim with her icy tricks, but she didn't actually believe it until now. There was no mistaking the blue skin with pattern lines and the red eyes. She was taller now, just over six feet, which made Lilac shift on her feet a bit as that made her taller than herself.

 

“ _A Jotun,”_ Lilac breathed.

 

Now that was something – she was certain there was no way Dav knew, otherwise he'd know he could probably make more money for a Jotun performer, she could show off her abilities over ice and the rarity of a Jotun in itself made her an exotic catch. Especially for one as _small_ as she was – she was larger than Lilac, yes, but Lilac had seen illustrations of the Jotun. She heard the stories growing up. Compared to that, Flár had to be a _runt._ Maybe that was why she was there in the Libidine in the first place.

 

 _But she still has to be powerful,_ Lilac awed, _and strong. She still killed that creep that got Mia. She lifted that Kree last week like he was nothing._ She felt the sudden urge to have Flár lift her up just like that, a single hand around her throat as if she was nothing. She wondered if she could get Flár to agree to join her in her VIP Room – either after the Kronan or she had no problems kicking him out if it meant getting Flár into bed. She felt a small jab of envy toward Darby, who had a single moment with Flár a long while back. It wasn't as if Darby would mind if she bedded Flár – an open relationship saved any complications that could come with sleeping with patrons and other performers.

 

Her whispered awe caught Flár's attention as her head whipped toward her with a snarl, baring her teeth at the Kree. It didn't stop Lilac from admiring the way the pattern lines traced around the crotch and dipped between the inner thighs.

 

Flár uttered a _long_ list of curses in languages Lilac's translator couldn't even decipher, before finally Flár took a deep breath and removed her hand, yet made no move to cover her exposed body.

 

“Fucking hell, I can't even get privacy in my own room,” she growled, “What the fuck do you want, Lilac? Unless you plan on helping me out, _get out_.”

 

In Lilac's defense, Flár had brought up the idea of _helping her out_ first and who was she to refuse?

 

**00000000000**

 

For someone to suddenly burst into her room _twice_ in the span of three weeks was _twice_ too many in Asta's opinion. If she wasn't so sleepy and groggy, then maybe she'd be more annoyed. She merely sat up in bed, exposing herself in more ways than one – neither the glamor nor any clothes were on. She rubbed at an eye and stretched, blinking back into reality to see Bri standing in her doorway with a deep flush on her face as she covered her eyes.

 

Asta briefly glanced to Yondu, who was sleeping soundly beside her, curled up into a ball facing her side of the bed. He stirred a bit when she got out of the bed and she was careful to not wake him as she grabbed a robe hanging by the door and ushered Bri out into the hall. Her glamor shimmered into place for fear of one of the others walking out and seeing her.

 

“Does, uh – does Dav know that Yondu guy sleeps here with you,” Bri asked hesitantly, “Because none of the patrons are supposed to be in this area. Hence _private_ bedrooms.”

 

“I trust him,” Asta crossed her arms against her chest and raised an eyebrow at the way Bri shifted on her feet, as if she couldn't stay still. She could feel a headache already forming. She was not awake enough to deal with whatever was bothering Bri if it wasn't urgent. Then again, she wouldn't have burst into the room if it wasn't. She sighed deeply and rubbed her temples,“What do you want Bri?”

 

Bri bit her lower lip, debating about what words to use before she finally speaks with desperate wide eyes, “I need your help.”

 

Asta tensed, more alert than she was a moment before. “Whose bothering you? If that Kree that bothered Cora is back and is bothering you, I can get Yondu up. He won't have any hesitation using that arrow of his and then I can - “

 

“No!” Bri's eyes widened considerably as she raised her hands frantically, trying to cut Asta off, “No, no, no! It's not like that! I just meant, I need help getting out of the Libidine. I – there was this guy a few weeks back who paid extra if we didn't use a condom and I was on those herbs Dav issued out so I didn't think I would get pregnant, but I guess the herbs just weren't enough.”

  
She paused, waving her hand as she tried to figure out what she was trying to say. The longer she took to speak, the more difficult it became. Her eyes began to blur with tears, feeling as if a ship hit her dead in the chest as she looked up at Asta.

  
“I can't raise a kid here, Flár, I just _can't._ I talked a lot of shit before, but I'm not asking for much. I'm not asking for you to get me a ride to Xander or anything, I just need… _”_ She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair, “ _Fuck._ I don't know what I need from you. Advice I guess. I just thought… Out of all the people here, I thought maybe you'd be my best bet. That you'd know what I could do to get out of here.”

 

Asta softened, her eyes looking at Bri with sympathetic understanding. She took a step forward and put a hand on Bri's shoulder, looking down at her with deep gazing eyes.

 

“If you want out, if you want to go to Xander, Morg, or anywhere, I will do everything in my power to help you,” Asta dipped her head as there was a flash in her eyes, “ _I swear it.”_

 

Bri relaxed considerably, but still remained rather misty eyed as she sniffled and struggled to get her breathing back to normal. The sharp pain her chest had turned into a dull throb. The emotion and complete and utter _sincerity_ in Asta's voice took her a bit by surprise. She didn't even try to stop herself from hugging Asta, wrapping her arms around the taller girl as much as she could and squeezing tightly as she sobbed into her torso.

  
Asta awkwardly patted her back, refusing to look down at Bri before she finally slowly pried the other girl off of her, “I understand you're trying to show appreciation, but you're barely dressed and I'm just in a thin robe. Could you - “ She waved her hand, unsure of what word she was trying to use.

 

Bri got the message and pulled away, laughing a bit under her breath as she rubbed the tears out of her eyes. Asta adjusted her robe and quickly glanced around the hall to make sure no one else was around before she told Bri to wait outside and then disappeared into her room. She was hardly gone a minute before she reappeared, her fist slightly clenched around what looked like two small gems, both brightly blue in color and shined through the gaps in her fingers.

 

Asta handed her one of the gems, the smaller of the two it seemed. Bri's eyes fixated on it as if she was holding the world in her hands. It was a startling deep blue that shined as if it held a night sky within it. It was a bit bigger than a marble and just a bit too big to be fit for a ring, but she knew without a doubt it was worth a fortune.

 

“Before I left my… _home…_ I took some of these. I used some to get to Libidine and thought maybe one day, I'd use the rest to leave Libidine myself and explore or return home.”

Bri's eyes went wide as she snapped her attention to Asta, frantically trying to shove the gem back, “I'm not taking something you may need one day Flár - “

  
Asta refused to take it, taking a step back with a scowl, “Believe me, I have no future plans of returning home. Just take the damn thing. It'll be enough to get you a ride to Xander through someone whose actually legitimate so you'd be safe. I don't want you hitchhiking or taking a ride from any of the patrons, you understand?”

Bri shook her head and was about to thank her when Asta continued, holding up the other gemstones – it wasn't a second, large gemstone like Bri had thought, but two small gems with two even smaller ones. Bri only caught a glimpse before Asta had closed her hands around the gems and cupped her hands around her lips, breathing onto them. A frost-like mist escaped between her fingers and when she released her fist to hand it to Bri, it was no longer several gems, but rather a small figurine. A strong ice formed to create two small legs for the larger of the gems to stand upon and continue to go up to wrap around another gem. The two smallest gems were on top, side by side, mimicking eyes. A thin layer of frost covered the gems' surface to add to their sparkle and shine, making them look so _otherwordly._

 

Bri couldn't help but think it resembled some sort of small creature – her memory blurred until she remembered a small little keychain figure that Mia had kept clipped onto her garter. Mia had called it her lucky charm and stated how it looked like a Terran frog. Bri wasn't sure what a _frog_ was nor what its purpose was or even if if had any actual lucky value you to it, but the small figuring she was handed shared a strong resemble to Mia's 'frog' keychain. She smiled softly and looked up toward Asta in questioning.

 

“When you get to Xander,” Asta explained, “Sell it to Broker. The ice adds to its price and he knows it. He'll give you a fair price for it and it will be enough for you to get your life started there if you play it smart.”

  
Asta glanced toward the clock on the wall and grumbled a bit under her breath about having to perform in only two hours, not leaving much time to sleep. She turned toward Bri, “You better pack up your things and head down to the dock now before anyone else gets up.”

 

Bri nodded frantically and held the two precious gifts close to her chest as she ran off, only to stop when Asta called out to her tiredly.

  
“Bri – the father, is he going with you?”

 

Bri shook her with a disappointed smile, “No. I told him I was pregnant and he said he didn't want anything to do with any kids. Then he called me a lying whore who was just trying to steal money from him and is still passed out in my VIP room far as I know. Thanks again, Flár, I'll never forget you.”

  
Asta watched Bri run off and looked down with a grim, deep set frown. Anger boiled down in her veins and she waited, impatiently, for Bri to disappear into her room before she let her anger flow a bit more freely. The last thing she wanted was for Bri to try to stop her from 'doing something she may regret.' She'd never regret putting someone in their place.

 

 _A father,_ she thought bitterly with a snarl, _should be there for their children._ The scars on her back ironically burned as the cold she tried so hard to control began to seep from her body. She cut through the dressing room to get to the other side and went straight toward Bri's VIP Room, small frozen patches followed her each step. Her fingers twitched at her sides, her eyes burning as her lips curled into a snarl. _Worthless father._ _If he doesn't want anything to do with kids, I'll_ _make sure he doesn't have any._

 

A door to one of the other rooms – Kaci's – opened, a head poked out, made eye contact with the raging performer that was currently stalking down the hall and prominently shut their door with a surprised yelp.

  
“Gee,” Kaci leaned against her door with a sigh – she shivered as she felt a brisk chill go by, a frosty mist briefly sweeping under her door. “I feel sorry for the guy that pissed her off.”


	10. Something More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those who said they loved her usually left in the end or worse, stabbed her in the back.   
> And to those she said she loved never ended well. 
> 
> Because the idea of loving someone terrified her to core, she decided she'd never admit or even tell Yondu she loved him. 
> 
> Because she loved him too much to loose him.
> 
> But when he confesses to her, she can't lie to him, and she hopes that she just didn't make the biggest mistake of her life.
> 
> Song Paired With Chapter:  
> Wicked Game by Ursine Vulpine https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7PoIisbJ7HI

Yondu took a large drink, his leg rattling his chair in a jitter. Flár had been out briefly after her performance before she disappeared into the back with the owner to 'discuss business.' He kept a careful eye on the direction they left in and listened carefully for any sign that she was in distress. He wasn't sure what type of business this _Dav_ guy was running, just that he better not hurt her. 

 

But she told him to wait, so he would. 

 

He eyed the other patrons with narrowed eyes, scowling and grumbling at ones that met his gaze until they quickly looked away from him. As his eyes swept over the bar, he noticed two of the other performers sitting close to him, whispering to themselves. He raised an eyebrow at the way the Xandarian girl sat in the Kree girl's lap,  her arms wrapped tightly around her to stay in place.

 

“ _ She hasn't slept with anyone lately but him,”  _ the Xandarian whispered, “ _ We used to have so much fun together, Lil, but she doesn't want anyone but him now. It's just not fair.” _

 

The Kree hummed in thought before shrugging slightly as she adjusted in the chair, yet careful of the girl in her lap. _“Disappointing, really,_ _Flár_ _is pretty damn good in bed.”_

 

He payed much closer attention to their words now, trying his best to make it seem as if he weren't listening in.  He eyed the girls out of the corner of his eyes and leaned a bit more toward their direction, careful to keep his eyes on the door  Flár  had went into with the owner. 

 

“ _ Ohh you got that right,” _ the Xandarian let out a shuddering breath,  _ “We had this threesome with this other guy a while back and damn, she is just delicious. And that thing she does with the ice ~oh~ it's a bit too much for my tastes, but when she just adds that subtle cold with her tongue and it just –  damn~.” _

 

Yondu snorted into his drink, yet couldn't deny that anything she said was wrong.  Flár  was pretty damn good. She knew what she was doing and she had that chill to her skin that sent electricity through your veins. He enjoyed giving her as much pleasure as she gave him, making sure to take time to carefully go over each pattern on her skin with his own tongue. He hummed a bit. The idea of her bedding anyone else didn't sit well on his chest, it created a bitter sense of jealousy imagining it, yet he couldn't but feel prideful over the fact that she hadn't been sleeping with anyone but him as of lately.  _ Girlie want's the best, _ he thought with a smirk, leaning back on his chair,  _ and I be the prettiest fucking angel in the whole damn galaxy. _

 

Flár returned, looking a tad off, but he couldn't see anything physical on her. There were no marks nor bruises; he could rest a bit easier seeing the owner didn't cause any harm to her. She spotted him easily and quickly went over with a swing in her hips. He hated the way the sexual smirk on her lips didn't quite seem right – it was enough that he was sure the patrons loved it, but it didn't ignite him in the way it usually did. He was going to ask what was wrong when she had reached him.

 

“ Hey stranger,” her voice was entrancing and gave no indication of whatever had rattled her with the owner beforehand. 

 

She gave Yondu a slow, drawn out kiss as she crawled up into his lap, straddling him in the chair.  _ Fuck it, girlie.  _ Doubts and questions left his mind as they were sucked out of his mouth by her lips.  He groaned into the kiss as she shamelessly began to grind against him. His hands went to her hips to steady her as  her breasts pressed against his chest.  He could use more welcomes like that one. 

 

The two performers beside him snickered,  causing him to scowl as  Flár  pulled away from him to give an exasperated look toward the two performers. She hesitated to say anything, briefly looking at him before she spoke,

  
“ _ Coco _ _ , Lilac,  _ don't you have anything better to do?”

 

_ Coco _ must ha d been the Xandarian, he could see why it was used as her stage name. He  had a vague memory of seeing it written out on a plaque one of the rooms in the VIP area.  _ Coco  _ pouted at  Flár 's words.

 

“But  Flár,”  she whined, “ We  _ miss _ you.”

 

She took her hands o f f the Kree,  _ Lilac,  _ and ran them down the front of her body slowly with a wink.  Flár  rolled her eyes with a huff, adjusting herself so she could face them better – Yond u may have voiced a small complaint, but it was fairly obvious that she purposely grinded against him with a bit of force as she moved.

  
“ No means no,  _ Coco, _ ” she lightly scolded the other dancer before getting off of Yondu's lap. He opened his mouth to speak, but she had already grabbed his wrist and dragged him off to the VIP area –  they couldn't  exactly head off to the private bedrooms after gaining everyone's attention. 

 

He noticed something was wrong the moment she had shut the door – now that he didn't have her hips distracting him. He could see the worried furrowed brows and the distant look in her eyes as she hesitantly walked toward him. She tried to smile at him as she wrapped her hands around him to bring him closer to her. He easily stepped out of her grasp and took her wrists in his hands. 

 

“We ain't gonna be doin' nothin' till you tell me what's got you so upset.”

 

She looked taken back from the statement, but she seemed to accept it quickly as her shoulders sagged with a tired sigh. As she relaxed, he released his grip on her and simply took a seat on the bed with his arms crossed against his chest. The hard-on pressing against his pants, caused from her earlier  _ welcome, _ would go away soon. That wasn't his main concern right now. 

 

Flár  hesitated. He waited. When she didn't show any signs of doing or saying anything, he patted the bed beside him, “I have all night, darlin'.”

 

She sighed deeply before taking the offer, stretching out across the bed to lay her head in his lap. It wasn't quite what he had in mind, but she was careful of the slow dying bulge in his crotch so he couldn't say he necessarily minded.  Flár  absently reached up with one hand, lazily playing with one of the necklaces that dangled from his neck.

  
“Dav called me into the back to talk about you – how I'm sleeping with you free of charge and not ranking in any money from it or from me declining patrons' offers for my room.”

 

He almost smirked. Seemed like those other performers were telling truth. 

 

“What'd ya tell him?”  


Flá r snorted and drew her hand back, away from his chest as she formed a long, sharp icicle from her palm with jagged edges. At its full length, it had to be at least a foot long, resting inches away from Yondu's nose. 

  
“I told him  I'd be more than happy to shove this up his ass then and there if he wanted a fuck from me that badly.”

 

Flár  jolted out of Yondu's lap as he let out a loud, roaring burst of laughter. She still held the icicle sideways, with one hand on each end and sat on the edge of the bed, scooting carefully away from him as she eyed him with uncertainty. 

 

“ _ That's my girl,”  _ he roared. 

  
She felt a bubble of a chuckle bubble in her throat before she finally joined him and even through his amusement, he couldn't help but admire the way her laughter sounded like light, beautiful chimes. He was still chuckling as he sat up straighter and reached out for the icicle. He took it in one hand and brought her close to him with the other. 

  
“I can think of a million and one better things to go up an ass,” he stated nonchalantly, admiring the icicle.

 

Flár 's eyes sparkled with interest and curiosity as she leaned onto his shoulder, “ Which ass? Yours or mine?”

 

He didn't expect a follow-up question like that, but thought a minute before speaking up, “'Suppose either or, up to ya darlin'.”

 

Flár  hummed in thought before shaking her head, “Another time Yondu, it's been a long day.”

 

H e would make sure to remember to bring up again some time later, yet tried his best to not think about too long and hard at the moment. His erection only just died down, there was no need to get it stirred back up.    
  
“If ya be so tired, ya didn't have to stir me up back there,” he questioned with a light warning, only for her to snort in amusement. 

  
“I know,”  Flár  grinned, “But it's too much fun messing with Darby.”

 

Y ondu shifted a bit on the bed, gently setting the icicle aside with plans on taking it back to him with the ship – he could use a souvenir like that, something just as beautiful and dangerous as she was with a wicked reminder of her sick humor.  He removed a few of his upper layers to get more comfortable as he continued the conversation. 

 

“ Who the hell is  _ Darby?”  
_

He laid out on the bed comfortably and waited for  Flár  to lay down beside him. She laid down beside him with her head against his bare chest. 

  
“ _ Coco,  _ the Xandarian, it just a stage name. Her real name's Darby.”

 

“And what about the Kree,  _ Lilac?” _   


Flá r chuckled a bit, “That's her real name – she choose it herself when she decided the Kree were something she didn't want to be a part of. Mia used to go by Elsie.  Roxie is Bri.  Akita's Cora and  Sugar is Kaci. I think the only one other one who doesn't use a stage beside Lilac is Gaia, but she just wants everyone to know whose pants they're sticking their hand into.”

 

She scowled a bit, but Yondu merely hummed in thought at the information.  _ Looks like girlie had more than a few to drink.  _ He knew by now, after being with her for so long, that if one got enough drink into her than she became a chatty little catch that became hard to shut up. He didn't quite like it, but at the same time, there were days he missed it.

 

His hand was wrapped tightly around her and gently rubbed against the scars along her back before his thumb pressed against one of her pattern lines. She tensed for a moment before relaxing under his grasp with a long, low exhale. 

  
“And what about you,” Yondu's voice was soft as he furrowed his eyebrows, “Is  Flár  ya name or just a stage name?”

 

He didn't like how quiet she became, her breaths hardly even making a noise.  Flár ,  if he could really call her that now,  tensed against him. He hated the way she began to curl into herself against him, burying her head into his chest as her knees became between her torso and his side. As if she was trying to get away from him, yet refusing to at the same time. 

 

H e cursed a bit at himself for getting such a reaction. He should have known by now that there were certain things you just didn't ask when it came to his girl – questions or answers that caused her to ball up and refuse to speak. He couldn't get angry at her. There were a few times, after he was freed, that he had done the same thing. A reaction from a bad memory that just never seemed to go away, a way to try to shield yourself from the world around you. 

  
He desperately wished he wasn't part of the world she was trying to shield out. 

 

“ _ Flár _ ,”  he sounded a bit more spiteful and angry than he meant to, but hoped that repeating the only name he knew for her may draw her out. 

 

S he whispered something against his chest, it was soft enough he almost missed it.

 

“ _Don't call me that,”_ Flár's voice sounded different – desperate, pleading – he had made her make a variety of different noises and voices, but this was by far the worst thing he'd ever heard from her. 

  
He sighed deeply, already feeling the headache began. “ Well, it ain't like I got nothin' else to call you, sweetheart.”

 

She moved from the fetal position she had been curled into, looking at him intensely with deep, soulful eyes as one of her hands gently touched his cheek. 

 

“I hate you for this,” she whispered, “But everyone else can call me that. But not you.  You're different. ”

 

He felt oddly flattered, but almost disturbed at the emotions swirling in her eyes.  He wasn't sure what was so bad about it and didn't like the way it made his stomach sink when she had spoken. 

 

“What  makes you say that darlin ',” he asked lightly, hoping to lighten the thick, cold, dense emotional air that was damn near suffocating. 

 

S he didn't answer. She merely looked deeply into his eyes as if she were trying to decide what she wanted to indulge, as if fighting with herself about whether or not she even wanted to tell him the truth. In the end, she let out a frustrated sigh and collapsed back down to the bed beside him.

  
“You're too damn special to call me that.” It didn't answer his question. He noticed she always seemed to do that – to give an answer to him that wasn’t necessarily an answer, but made him feel as if it were. “ I've tried pretty fucking hard to ignore it, but I can't stand you calling me that anymore.”

 

“And why's that,” he shifted so he could face her, laying on his side. He watched her carefully, as if she may strike out, but she merely laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling with furrowed, thoughtful brows. 

“ _Flá r_,” she spat the word out venomously, “everyone called me it so often growing up, I figured it'd be a nice reminder of home to use it at the Libidine. _Flár._ Treacherous.”

 

H is eyes narrowed a bit at the meaning of the word, a low growl humming in his throat.  She looked toward Yondu with an expression he couldn't quite decipher. 

  
“People didn't like me because of who my father was and to them, my father was just the worst of the worst, an honor less tricky bastard who'd sooner trick you to sell your soul to him than to lend a hand to his daughter. They saw me like they saw him so I was…  _ Flár.  _ People began using it instead of my real name so in a way, I guess it was my name. ”

 

Y ondu already knew that he'd hate her father, but in that moment, he swore that he'd kill the man before he ever let him get his hands on her.  He fell short of telling her that – that he'd never let anyone lay her hands on her again if she'd let him protect her,  _ love _ her.  But it'd be best to play it safe. The idea of loving her would bring out so many complications into light he wasn't ready to face just yet.

  
She let out a dark chuckle, “Just can't stand hearing it from you anymore. Especially since you're the first fucking thing to make me feel like anything but _f lár._ I had a cousin who was pretty good to me, but every now and then, she'd show how much she doubted me. I loved her dearly, but she never trusted me. No one did so I didn't trust a single one of them. But for whatever fucking stupid reason, I trust you.”

 

She made a decision then that would later change her life, even if she didn't know it yet. It wasn't as if she had her father's gift of seeing and foresight. She turned and faced Yondu. Her body seeped so much ice and cold, the covers were beginning to freeze over. He could feel the frosty chill seeping through his skin, but he couldn't bring himself to care about how his fingers were slowly turning a shade too blue. 

 

“My name's  _ Asta,” _ she whispered, meeting his eyes dead-on.  There was a bit of fear in her eyes at the name, as if it were a curse or a summoning to something.  “ My father had a twisted sense of humor naming me after  _ beauty  _ and  _ beloved. _ I think he did it to remind me how it'd be impossible for anyone to love us without the glamor, that we were anything by beautiful or beloved.”

 

A t that moment, like Asta, he then made a decision that would later change his life as he decided that he no longer wanted to play it safe. Not when it came to the very-much  _ beautiful _ woman in front of him. 

 

“ Your father is a damn fool for sayin' somethin' like that to ya,” Yondu growled as he turned to lay right on top of her, his hands on either side of her body, “Because I say ya name be pretty fuckin' fittin' and if anyone ever tells ya a damn thing different, I'll put the fear of the afterlife in 'em.”

 

His face grew closer to hers and her heart began to skip a few beats.  She felt as if she couldn't breathe and Yondu let out a growl at the cold wisp of air that floated from her lips, breathing a frost that he wanted to kiss and steal from her lungs. 

 

“Ain't nobody ever made me feel the way I do about ya,” his voice was low and husky as he looked at her through hooded eyes, “ Them boys of mine keep sayin' you're makin' me soft, but I don't give a flying shit what they think because I'll be damned if I don't get to see the girl I love.”

 

_ L ove. _ The word escaped from his lips and she inhaled it sharply with wide eyes and a frantic, excited, yet scared nervous beat began to hit against her chest. 

 

He loved her. 

 

* * *

 

 

She wondered how long she felt this way and if it was the reason she sneaked him into her private bedroom, some part of her wanting something more than just hookups. Her private bedroom brought more intimacy. It was only supposed to be the one time, yet now they both gravitated to it instead of the VIP room. The exception being if they were being partially rough and needed something more sturdy than her flowery, soft mattress allowed. He tore three of her favorite pillows before they agreed on that term, or rather before she finally got tired of replacing pillows.

 

Hell, after a confession like the one he gave, they couldn't stick to the VIP room. He carried her to her private bedrooms, racing quickly through the hall and dressing room to the bedroom with her legs wrapped around his waist and her face buried into his neck, leaving his clothes behind in the VIP Room. She had ushered a quick apology to Kaci, who they nearly ran over on the way to the bedroom, but they were in quite the hurry and all for good reason.

 

She had said she loved him back. She returned his love.

 

_Odin how could she be so stupid to say it back?_

 

When did it stop being just fun, open hookups? When did she start watching the door every night waiting for him? When did it begin to hurt when he left?

 

She couldn't see her reflection in the mirror anymore. There were layers upon layers of frost and ice over the mirror. She didn't care. She sat there, thinking, with a sense of dread in her stomach as she glanced over to the Centaurian asleep in her bed.

 

_This wasn't supposed to happen._

 

Her heart sank and a for moment, she didn't really feel anything but the numbness that washed over her. She came to Libidine to start over, to just be herself, not what everyone else wanted her to be – the glamor would make people like her and sure, it was to make her look like anything  _but_ herself, but the Libidine had became a safe spot for her. In a way, it had became a home in itself for her.  _But this…_ Her eyes became hooded as she glanced back to the frozen over mirror. She ran her hand across it to clear it enough to see her red eyes staring back at her. 

 

He could see her eyes. He could see her blue skin. He saw her for what she was, but he only saw her for who she was as much as she allowed. This Centaurian made her feel more naked and exposed than any dance or costume the Libidine ever gave her. She had spent so long building up these walls and never in her wildest dreams did she expect them to come down this much because of one person. The scariest part was that she didn't quite mind.

  
The one person who saw her for what she was and decided she was beautiful, who could handle her roughly without breaking her yet at the smallest sign of discomfort, he could turn into the biggest worrisome lover. It took her a while to figure out what it meant when someone put so much effort into making sure that she was okay. She never had someone put her own wants and comforts above their own, not in that manner. Or in any manner really.

 

He made her better, she realized. Not necessarily a better person, but when that ever-burning rage and spire in her veins were dulling to a flickering flame of fury. He made her feel beautiful. The more time she spent with him, the more time she spent looking at her own skin for what it was. She still couldn't see what was so charming or beautiful about it, but she was beginning to appreciate the sparkle on her flesh and the way it shined in certain lights as if there thousands of diamonds sewn into her skin.

 

She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair with a deep breath. She had a bitter taste in her mouth. She thought to all of her experiences with the word _love_ and looked toward the way his chest rose and fell with each sleeping breath.

  
He said he loved her.

  
And all of her blunt honesty, she had said it back.

 

This, she decided, terrified the ever-living fuck out of her.


	11. Silver Tongue Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her name is a summoning that gets swept through the Nine Realms and like all summoning, he can feel its ache in his bones. The more her name is said, the more he can feel its pull through Midguard's space before he finds himself at the Libidine, watching her dance across the stage. He wonders what it will take for him to get her to come crawling back home willingly, to fall subject to his will again. 
> 
> After all, a father just wants what's best for his daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not dead! Sorry for the long absence, I was moving over into my own apartment and got swept away into the work and time it took to move. But now I'm settled in and updates will fall more regularly!

 

His daughter had her moments and was rather gifted in the ways of the Jotun, but she wasn't always the brightest. Loki had seen her put her inherited silver tongue to use, weaving lie and truth together like spider silk that shined too brightly for the fly to realize it was a death trap. But there were moments in which she slipped, where emotions buzzed to the surface and she couldn't quite swallow them down. There were other times were she just didn't open herself up to the sorcery and magic that was in her soul that she didn't know how to sense what was right under her nose.

 

Loki took a sip of the glass in his hands, eying the performer on the stage from over its brim. Despite all his daughter's faults, she did manage to stay hidden from him for a while â€“ much longer than he thought she'd be capable of, really. Granted, he wasn't in any particular hurry finding her either. But her name had whispered through all the Nine Realms until he felt it in his chest and he followed its pull to what had to be the grossest establishment within Midguard. Her name was a curse, a summoning that put a target on her back. Only she would be foolish enough to know that and still let it slip through her lips enough times he could followed the trail. He had seen dogs that were harder to catch.

 

His eyes swept over the rest of the establishment, scowling deeply at the patrons who leered at the performers with disgusting vulgarity.

 

He wondered what led her here â€“ the attention, the praise, the lust, or some strange combination of all three? He looked back toward the stage and while the glamor may have everyone else fooled, he saw nothing but the blue skin and red eyes. His knuckles turned white as the glass he held shattered in his hand, a snarl on his lips. She could fool everyone else here, she could even fool herself, but he knew that there was no praise for that blue skin, for that _Jotun._ Each patron that cheered for her, lusted of her, wasn't truly for her. He thought he taught her better than that.

 

He sighed deeply and swallowed down the anger boiling within his veins. She still hadn't noticed him. He would be disappointed, but it would give him a chance to teach her a lesson. It was what fathers did best after all.

  
He smirked darkly as he eyed the room, focusing more intently on his daughter before his gaze shifted to the one performer in the backdrop that had a burning hatred in her eyes. The music of Asta's performance had faded. His eyes narrowed as he looked back to his daughter and they way she sauntered through the crowd after her performance toward a Centurian, only to straddle him with her lips pressed tightly into his. He looked back toward the Krylorian and a plan slowly began to form in his mind as he tried his best to not think about what that Centurianand his daughter would be doing as they made their way toward the VIP Room.

 

* * *

 

 

The Centaurian and his daughter were closer than he first thought. As a father, it was in the worst way possible. He heard them together and he swore his ears would bleed. But he'd seen the way she looked at him, as if he breathed life into her and she was in desperate need for air. He heard how this man whispered her real name under his breath. His blood burned and he wanted nothing more than to slip in and kill this man for daring to believe that he had enough worth to even _think_ about sleeping with his daughter.

 

However, with a few adjustments to his plan, it would work out better than expected. He could get his daughter back, regain her trust in him, and destroy her relationship with that damn Centaurian without her suspecting him of having any part in it. It would just take some patience. He was simply going to plant the seeds and then lean back to watch them grow.

 

He just thought that his daughter's reaction to seeing him would have been more positive. He barely missed the vase she threw at him in time- it shattered on the wall behind him as he narrowed his eyes dangerously at Asta's fierce snarl.

 

"What do you think you're doing here," she growled and he noticed the way she lingered close to anything else she could throw. He had no doubt that she would resort to using ice if she ran out of objects to chuck at him. Nothing she could possibly do would do any serious harm, but he'd rather avoid any unnecessary force.

 

"Can a father not worry about his daughter," his smooth voice cut through the tense air as he strolled toward her with a calm grace.

 

"A real father maybe." She wasn't reaching for anything else to throw; he took it as a good sign. She stood firmly with her arms across her chest.

 

He tsk'ed at her words, "Asta, I am your father and while you may not be believe it, I _do_ care about you and seeing you in this _hole,"_ he made a vague waving gesture with a disgusted expression on his face. "I just want to see you back _home_ , where you belong."

 

His voice turned softer as she allowed to let him get closer to him. They were in her private bedroom with no worries about passerby. He put his hands gently on her shoulders and pressed down lightly until she released the tension in her muscles. For a moment, he thought he had her. He could see the hesitation and doubt flickering in her eyes before she shook her head and yanked herself out of his grasp.

 

"Asgard is not my home," she spat bitterly with a deep scowl, "It never was and it never will. I'd sooner hang myself than return to the halls of the palace to hear dirty gossip whispered behind my back. My home is _here."_ She turned away from him in favor of looking toward her mirror as her words grew softer, almost down to a whisper only meant for her ears. "My _heart_ is here."

 

Loki put on his best sympathetic face as he stood behind his daughter and gently put his hands back on her shoulders. The more contact he had with her, the more it allowed for his magic to seep from his fingertips and into her skin, the more she'd be willing to listen to him.

 

"The Centurian." She didn't need to answer him to know he was right - her heart belonged to that blue Ravager Captain. "Asta, my dear. No one will ever love us without the glamor."

 

"He does," her eyes shined brightly in her reflection with determination and stubbornness, "He loves me. With or without the glamor."

 

Sometimes she could be so stubborn and strong-willed. He would have to bring her back soon, teach her how to aim that strong-will toward their enemies. He was not her enemy. He was her father.

 

"My dear," his voice dripped with sorrow, "He's a criminal. A pirate. Do you really believe your the first woman he's fooled? The first one he said he loved to get them wrapped around his finger? He's a convincing liar, even I will admit that."

 

Doubt began to seep into her veins, reaching her heart in an instant. Her shoulders relaxed under his grasp and he only barely managed to hide the smirk that twitched at the corners of his lips. He could feel the way her defenses had began to drop.

 

"I'm just trying to look after you, little star." His silver tongue made the words sound sincere and caring. She was stupid to believe it. "I don't want to see you get hurt."

 

He almost had her, but when he blinked, she had shaken herself free from his grasp, a snarl on her lips.

 

"Get out." Her voice was as solid and sharp at the ice that danced at her fingertips. "I don't believe you. _Get out."_

 

He caught the way her words shook and her hands trembled. Hesitation. Doubt on a shaky belief. He put a hand to his heart as he bowed his head to her.

 

"Very well, little star."

  
He began to leave, but turned to look over his shoulder. He could see the way her eyes shimmered. She was trying hard not to believe him, but soon it won't be long until she does. She'd run into his arms, listen to the words he whispers into her ear, and rule by his side as his next in line to the throne after Odin and Thor are taken care of. The Centurian will break her heart and as her father, he'd be the one left to pick up the pieces.

 

"Just be careful."

 

He left after his warning. He didn't have to look back to feel the cold sharpness that had taken to the air and hear the way she broke to the ground in a frustrated sob. A smirk played on his lips as he folded his hands behind his back and made his way through the hall.

 

_And thus the seed takes to its soil._


	12. The Silver Tongue Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A handsome, charming stranger offers Gaia a proposition she can't refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, a small tidbit of information, as the next final chapters are going to be a fairly good length.

 

Gaia didn't know what to make of the charming stranger who approached her. He seemed too out of place in the Libidine - too refined and regal. He walked with a grace that was smoother than the dancers and had an air of power about him that made her knees weak. His softer, cleaner features made her bite her bottom lip as she eyed him and wondered what ship he came from and if every crew member on it was as easy on the eyes as he was. A refreshing, _exciting,_ change from the normal customers that sauntered in.

 

He gave her a charming smile that made her confidence falter â€“ the small grasp of control she thought to have slipped through her fingers as she realized the man before her was _definitely_ the one in charge. She couldn't help but relish in the way he bowed to _her,_ daring to even take her hand and plant a delicate kiss on the back of her hand.

  
"My dear." His voice was smooth as his skin looked. "I have a proposition for you that I believe will fall into your favor."

 

 _Proposition._ Men who used that word often tried to trade other goods or items for sex rather than credits - goods that rarely held the worth their owners swore to her. Her previous eagerness was replaced with more hesitance and caution as she eyed him slowly. Startling emerald eyes met hers and she wondered what race he was - Terran was her first guess, but there was too much power behind his eyes to be from Terra. She thought of a few different races, but nothing seemed to hold well in regards to him and she wasn't sure if she liked the quirky smirk on his lips.

 

Her mind couldn't help but drift toward Flar and the similarities she was beginning to see between the two the more she looked. The curve of the nose. A gleam in the eyes that let said that they knew more than they let on. The almost mischievous, trickster air about them. As if they're capable of so much more than anyone can even dream of.

 

She stood a bit straighter, "What type of proposition?"

 

He gave her a smile that seemed to be too toothy to be genuine - she realized he not only still had all of his teeth, but that they all seemed to be practically spotless. Her curiosity piqued. To have perfect teeth like that spoke of money. A lot of it.

 

"I saw you perform," He gracefully sauntered around her to put a hand on her waist â€“ she allowed the contact as his touch created a buzz against her skin. "And I have to say, you are absolutely stunning. A vision to be held. It's such a shame that a beautiful act like yours isn't the star of the show."

 

Her chest puffed up with each stroke of her ego, every compliment easing her worries of the stranger. "That's what I told Dav, but he refuses to let me be the star! I'm a hundred times better than all those other dancers and he knows it too. I think he's intimidated by me."

 

He hummed a bit at her response, almost amused by her blind pride and foolishness. "I'm sure he is, my dear, but I, however, am not. I truly believe you deserve to be the star and if you'd allow me, I'd like to help you shine like the beautiful diamond you are."

 

She gave him a wicked grin, previous cautions being thrown to the wind as the promise of fame made her give into the temptation of the stranger.

 

"What do you have in mind?"

His smile became more sinister. Something she may have noticed had he not turned in able to lead her to a more private section to continue their talk. His hand was still delicately placed on her waist, tingling with electricity that caused goosebumps to arise against her skin.

 

"The first step, my dear - " he began as they entered the room, "- is to get rid of the competition."


	13. The After Effects of A Silver Tongue Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As her father's words start to create more doubt and worry within Asta's mind, Yondu finally falls to deception beyond his control that makes those doubts come true.

Something changed within the star performer, Flar. No one could quite put their finger on it, but if they had to, they'd say it was as if her dancing lost its spark. Like she was merely performing from memory, putting no heart into it, as if something was missing from her. Some said that they swore her skin flickered like a blurry star during her song and they saw glimpses of red eyes that were too tired to continue on - many blew the rumors off as patrons being too drunk. The other performers, however, knew better.

 

The way that Flar had changed wasn't unnoticed backstage. She spent more and more time at her mirror. Darby said she couldn't remember the last time that she saw Flar smile or laugh â€“ it unnerved her to see Flar's regression into a recluse again. It unnerved almost all of them - they all thought, on some level or another, that the cold shoulder Flar seemed to wear had finally thawed. But instead, her eyes turned colder and the air around her was almost unbearable to be near for the ones that dared to try to get close to her.

 

"You don't think that Yondu did somethin', do you," Darby whispered, knowing the name of the Ravager captain that had come in often enough that no one even spared him a second glance anymore.

 

Lilac eyed the way Flar applied her makeup for the next show - her eyes never left her reflection and her expression was practically emotionless. She briefly looked toward Gaia, who applied her own makeup at her station with a smug, almost excited expression. She didn't like that look on her face. It spoke of trouble and anytime Gaia got herself into trouble, it rarely ended good.

 

"I don't know," Lilac finally spoke. "I haven't seen him around in a while. I don't think anyone has."

 

Darby hummed, "Maybe that's why she's so down then - she misses him."

 

Lilac didn't comment, letting Darby believe what she wished. Though something about that particular explanation simply didn't settle well with her. Something else was going on, something bigger and deeper. She settled into her seat, allowing Darby to curl into her lap.

 **  
** "I heard that Dav talked to her," Kali leaned in - Darby barely dodged a stray tentacle that nearly hit her, causing her to glare at the other girl who grinned sheepishly as she gathered her tentacles up to keep them contained in her arms. But her eyes soon drifted back to Flar, "Word is he's firing her soon if she doesn't clean up her act."

 

 _That_ surprised the both of them as they shot up in their seats, eyes wide. Darby's jaw-dropped expression was nearly comical as Lilac stared blankly at the news.

 

"Fire her," Darby whispered harshly, "What? Is he _crazy?_ She's _smoking hot."_

 

Kali shrugged, "From what I gathered, it has something to do with how she's not putting her all into performances anymore. That thing she has, magic or not, can only satisfy customers to a point before they start complaining about her routine. Last night, she missed three beats and tripped over a stray bottle."

 

Lilac frowned at the news - both she and Darby were busy in the VIP rooms all night, but she hadn't heard wind of any accidents.

 

"Wow, that's so unlike her," Darby whistled, "I didn't think she could mess up. Something must be seriously wrong."

 

Lilac didn't doubt that. She glanced back toward Gaia, "Well, that at least explains why Gaia is so giddy. If Flar gets put down, then shes' next in running to be the star."

Kali's face contorted into an uncomfortable expression, "I heard her tell Cora she plans the moment that he fires Flar to 'secure her position.'"

 

Lilac snorted, "She'll be securing a position alright."

 

Darby's roar of laughter had her tumbling out of Lilac's lap, sprawling around onto the floor with her hands on her ribs as her body shook with giggles. Lilac rolled her eyes at the over dramatic act, but the ends of her lips twitched into a small, amused smile that disappeared the moment that Darby hit Flar's chair causing it to move, thus ending with a large streak of dark eyeshadow smudging down Flar's face.

 

The laughter died and for the first time in a long time within the Libidine, the backstage area went completely quiet as all eyes went to the scene before them. Lilac slowly began to rise from her chair, prepared to step in if needed as Flar slowly turned her head down to look at Darby. Darby's eyes were wide as she met Flar's gaze - angry, hot red eyes flashed at her for a moment, but the moment she blinked, they were back to normal.

 

Flar stood from her chair and not a soul breathed. Darby felt her heart leap into her throat and for a moment, she firmly believed that she would die. Flar's hand reached out suddenly and she flinched backward, closing her eyes tightly as she waited for the hit that never came. Her eyes slowly blinked back open. The hand was still stretched out toward her and the longer she looked into Flar's eyes, the less anger she saw and the more sadness became apparent. Her heart skipped as her gaze softened and took the hand.

 

It wasn't the first time she had touched Flar, but she didn't remember her skin being quite that cold. A hiss escaped her lips, but she masked the minor pain as she smiled brightly at Flar. She didn't return the smile, merely nodding in acknowledgment before she simply sat back down, cleaned off the dark smudge, and returned to fixing her makeup.

 

For a moment, Darby did nothing but stare at her hand where her skin shimmered with ice shavings. The more she flexed her hand, the more thawed it became - no serious damage. Nothing like what they all knew Flar could do when someone messed her up like that.

 

Darby and Lilac shared a look.

 

Yes.

 

Something was indeed _seriously_ wrong - the question was _what_?

 

* * *

 

 

The longer Yondu was away, the more her father's comments itched their way into her mind. The more she doubted herself, doubted Yondu, doubted _everything_ they had between them. Maybe he was never going to come back because he found someone better. Maybe she was never beautiful to him in the first place. Maybe it really was all a lie - a facade Yondu put on to lure women into his pants.

 

She took a deep, ragged breath and sat down on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands. _No._ She can't keep letting his absence get to her like this. He had been gone before â€“ not for as long, surely, but he always came back to her. She never doubted him before. She never let it bother her before. Why should it do so now?

 

 _He loves me,_ she thought, _he loves me, he loves me, he loves me._ The more she said it to herself, the more she tried to let herself believe it before bad thoughts came trickling back in. _No he doesn't. Why would he? No could love me. No one does love me. No one will ever love me._

 

She was slowly beginning to believe it and the more she did, the more her heart was turning a different type of cold. Not a shield of ice to protect it, but rather a freezing numbness to the pain. She sighed deeply as her thoughts drifted into memories of her and Yondu - she could go to Asguard, but can she really leave him behind? Her heart would still be with him, her _soul_ would still long to be there by him.

 

She put off the thought of leaving for now. She had to see him at least one more time before she truly considered leaving, before she made that big of a decision when he's such a big part of her staying here for this long. She had to say goodbye if she decided to leave, and she had to be with him if she stayed.

 

* * *

 

 

It seemed like forever before she spotted him in the crowd and the moment that her eyes met his, each and every patron there finally saw the beloved star of the Libidine in her true glory. There was a fire sparking in her eyes, a saunter in her hips and a mischievous teasing smirk on her lips. Many, even the performers, argued that it was the night that Flar of the Libidine gave the best performance of her life that ended with whistles, calls, and dirty remarks being shouted through the crowd.

 

Yondu noticed the difference and it caused his heart to skip as it caught in his throat, knowing that the reason she ended with a suggestive kiss to the crowd, her finger catching on her lip as she bent forward enough that her breasts threatened to fall out, was all for him. She was teasing him, taunting him. A growl formed in his throat, knowing damn well that it was due to how much she missed him.

  
He wasn't going to lie. He missed her too. More than he'd let his crew - or anyone - ever know. His balls were bluer than his skin not wanting anyone but her. His heart was heavier in his chest longing for her. He didn't just want to be inside of her -though that was a very appealing thought - he wanted to hold her, hear her voice say his name. He already had plans of making the night about her pleasure as a forgiveness for being gone for so long - though he hoped she'd be excited to hear how well he'd been doing as a captain.

 

He spotted her saunter into the private bedrooms, throwing a wink over her shoulder to him before she disappeared behind the curtain into the private hall. _Damn._ It was good to be back. He missed the way how she could make him hot with want with just a look. He smirked dangerously as he helped himself to the private bedrooms reserved for the dancers, a hand already down toward his belt.

 

A body grazed against his shoulder, causing him to snarl as he threw a harsh glare at the stranger that brushed by - raising an eyebrow at the stranger's appearance, briefly caught off guard by dark hair and starling emerald eyes and regal clothing. His eyes turned blurry for a moment and he worried if maybe he had too much to drink, but when he blinked, everything seemed fine.

  
"Watch where you're going," Yondu growled and if he weren't in such a hurry, he'd whistle his arrow straight through the cocky smirk the stranger gave in response before they disappeared out of the private hallway back toward the crowd.

 

He shook off the encounter and continued on his way down the hall. His rubbed his eyes with a frustrated noise as everything kept coming in and out of focus, but when he looked up he could clearly see Asta standing there by a bedroom door, leaning against its frame with a seductive grin. He briefly thought about how he could have sworn her bedroom was a few more doors down, but shook it off as just being gone for too long.

 

He barely reached her before she reached out and grabbed his jacket collar to pull him close to her for a passionate kiss. He let out a long groan into her lips as his hands reached for her waist. His fingertips enjoying the way her skin felt beneath his hands.

  
He was barely able to notice the way her skin felt warmer, that her eyes lacked the emotional depth that he could get lost in, and that sometime, deep within him, screamed that something was wrong.

 

* * *

 

 

When Yondu didn't show up in her bedroom, Asta felt a sinking feeling in her gut as doubts swirled in her mind. She stepped out of her bedroom, not even bothering to put something over the skimpy, yet very expensive lingerie that she wore knowing that no one aside from the other performers and hopefully Yondu would see her. Maybe something came up - maybe he had an emergency on his ship or a call. Maybe he was taking his sweet time to taunt her, though considering how long it'd been, that didn't seem likely.

 

She ventured carefully through the hallway, wondering where she should begin to look for him. She didn't see him anywhere within the hall, she had hoped that maybe he had simply forgotten which bedroom was hers since Dav took the initiative to remove all name plaques after a few creepers had managed to lurk their way into the private area. No Yondu in sight. She took a deep breath, frost chilling at her fingertips as she briefly ducked into her room to grab a robe before she poked her head out of the curtain to swiftly look through the crowd.

 

Kraglin caught her eye pretty easily - he met her gaze and gave her a confused wave. No Yondu in sight - not by Kraglin, not anywhere near the bar nor stage or anywhere within her eyesight. She hoped he was in the restroom.

 

 _'Where's Yondu,'_ she mouthed carefully - briefly muttering a spell to help the other patrons not notice her - she didn't want to deal with any trouble at the moment. Not until after she had Yondu at least.

 

' _With you?'_

 

She must have read his lips wrong, but there was so much befuddlement on his face that she let out a frustrated groan and finally just waved Kraglin over.

 

He eyed her warily before obeying, carefully dodging the drunk crowd as to not spill the drink in his hand. She wasn't going to judge the drink's fruit-like color and the winter flower that floated on its rim. She pulled him through the curtain hard enough it almost spilled over him. He sent her a nasty glare, but his gaze softened seeing the frantic and frustrated worry on her face. He eyed her carefully and noted that that wasn't the only thing different - her body, while covered by a robe that still showed quite a bit, seemed more bony and thin as if she hadn't been eating and there were dark blue bags forming under her eyes as if she hadn't slept. _Perhaps the Captain's long departure hit her pretty hard._

 

He looked around briefly, but didn't spot his captain. He turned his attention back to the frustrated woman. She stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently. The chill in the air around her grew more steady and noticeable, enough that there was a small cloud that escaped from his lips with every exhale.

 

"What do you mean, _with me,"_ Asta harshly snapped, "I haven't seen him since I got off stage, where the fuck is he?!?"

 

Kraglin winced at her tone, shifting on his feet uncomfortably, "He disappeared back here soon as he saw you come back 'ere. I figured you'd both already be pretty busy by now."

 

Asta crinkled her nose, frowning at the words before glancing back around carefully as if expecting Yondu to suddenly show. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by a load moan of ecstasy from a nearby door. She scoffed at the flush spreading across Kraglin's cheeks.

 

"Gaia's always loud," she waved it off, "And stop blushing like you've never heard it before. You and I both know you're not a virgin."

 

The vague mention of their past threesome caused his blush to be worse and he nearly gave her a snappy comment in reply when another loud groan cut him off.

  
" _Yondu, oh fuck~"_

 

The name caused them both to freeze and tense up. Kraglin swallowed deeply and warily eyed the woman beside him as she stared off in the distance with an unreadable expression. He could see frost spreading through the floor and reached out to grab her shoulder to console her, but she had already taken off toward the door where the moan originated from.

 

He cursed himself for following her, but he couldn't just leave her there to face whatever the hell was happening alone. By the time he caught up with her, she already had the door open. He stood behind her, panting heavily from the sprint, but quickly shut up at the sight before him - Captain and a Krylorian girl were very clearly getting quite into it on the bed with her nails digging through his back.

 

 _Captain._ He felt sick - not from the display in front of her per say, but the idea that the Captain could do that to the poor woman he said he loved was something he couldn't wrap his head around. He had to deal with the Captain's comments about her for at least a decade now and while he never said it in front of his crew, Kraglin knew the Captain cared deeply for the girl. Something like this wasn't the Captain's style. He was many things, but he was hardly one to do something this _bad._ Or if he was, he was just someone Kraglin didn't think was capable of it.

 

He looked toward Asta. She stood there watching, her eyes glazed over with ice and emotions that made him want to have a serious talk with his Captain if it wouldn't end up with him dead. She didn't scream or attack or do anything he expected her to do. She just watched. He could see the frost spreading through the floor and watched closely enough to notice the way that her breathing turned labored and short.

 

He took the liberty of shutting the door before Yondu noticed them and when he turned around, Asta had already taken off down the hallway toward one of the bedrooms and slammed the door hard enough that ice fell from its frame.

 

He debated about going after her before he finally sighed and shook his head before taking his leave.

 

_Oh Captai' what'd ya do?_

 

* * *

She never looked back. She couldn't. She couldn't stand there a second longer because seeing them together made her want to do nothing but freeze them over and destroy them with a furious fist. So she did what she supposed she was best at now. She ran. She ran to her room, collapsed in the chair in front of the mirror and then let the brokenness hit her.

 

Her hand clutched her breast, her eyes wide with shock, and she couldn't breath. She could take in a few sharp, short breaths that stung her lungs and made her head ache, but no - she couldn't breathe. She couldn't feel. She couldn't move.

 

She thought she knew what pain was. It was whispers behind her back and later a whip. It was watching the disgust and horror on people's faces before they bared grinding teeth at her with a bow. It was hearing time after time that she wasn't doing anything right and never would be able to. It was hearing how she was nothing more than a monster. A bitch. A whore. It was the realization she'd never be good enough to anyone - not her father, not either of her people, not either of her grandfathers, nor uncle, nor cousin - but it proved that she was just as stupid as everyone believed her to be because she was foolish enough to hope that she was good enough for him.

 

But this was a new type of pain that stung more than whips and fists. She could feel it pierce her torso, deep between her ribs, and strike her heart in an icy blaze. It was needles poking fun at her emotions as her heart bled. Her nails were sharper as her control over any glamor slipping out of her control completely, leaving claws digging into her chest hoping maybe she could claw out the pain.

 

She looked up at her reflection and wished that she was forever blinded. For the first time in a long time, she looked in the mirror and saw whatever else saw of her. A monster. A blue-skinned freak. A Jotun - something she once took pride in now was uttered like a curse. A half-breed bastard. A blue whore. An ugly freak. She saw a _fool -_ the fool everyone kept telling her that she was, the fool her father believed her to be. She could no longer deny it as bloodshot blue eyes with red irises glazed over with a sheen of icy tears stared back at her.

 

 _A fool,_ her knuckles turned a light enough shade of blue to be white as her claws dug into the palm of her hand. _A damned, stupid, foolish idiot who actually believed he cared._ But why would he care about her? Why would anyone? She couldn't believe she let herself actually believe someone could love her.

 

The fist at her side raised and hit the tough layer of frozen ice - her knuckles bled blue and there were frozen shards of ice and glass that landed everywhere across the vanity, some falling to the floor where ice crept off of her feet.

 

She lost herself when she could still see her reflection in the remains of the mirror - the shattering pattern and various missing shards created more than one reflection that danced around her tauntingly.

 

A hand touched her shoulder and she jolted, turning swiftly with a fist that stopped inches away from the last face she wanted to see. Her shoulders and defense dropped, too tired to keep up a mask around him.

  
"I thought you left."

  
Her voice was tired, broken, weak and horse as if the cold had taken hold of her vocal chords. He didn't say anything in response at first, merely leaning over behind her with his hands on her shoulders. She didn't shrug away his touch. He took that as a sign to continue, smiling in mock sympathy.

 

"My dear, I can't express enough sorrow to see you in this manner. A great star that has fallen." She sunk low at his words, but he continued, his grip on her tightening. "But you can rise again by your father's side. Come home, Asta, with me. You have nothing here but heartbreak that will destroy you if you stay."

 

She didn't say in response, but she looked up to meet his gaze through the reflection in the mirror. She didn't find his grin as predatory, nor his eyes as enticingly devious. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing, but found herself willing to listen if it meant getting over the heavy ache in her chest.

 

"Come with me, cherish the memories you have of here, but leave them in the past where they belong." His voice sounded more enchanting, his touch tingling against her skin. "I know you have friends here, my dear, the other performers will surely miss you, but what was it that you had said before? You'd rather hang yourself before returning home?"

 

He wasn't a stupid man - god, really - he knew that eventually, truth would to light and Yondu would see that he had been fooled. He cannot risk that Centurian snooping around and possibly roping his daughter back into the stars instead of by her father's side, _ruling Asguard,_ where she belonged.

 

Asta stirred, eying her father with a scoff, "Isn't feigning death more your forte?"

 

His grip tightened a bit too tight around her shoulders and he inhaled sharply through his nose at the dismal before regaining himself. He put his more convincing smile on, leaning down so his face was by her ear, pouring more temptation and ease into her shoulders through magic that easily flowed through his fingertips.

 

"Your _friends_ will miss you," the words came out easily, "They will wonder where you went, if something went wrong, if you're dead, and perhaps wonder for the rest of their lives. It's up to you, my dear, to tie up the loose ends. To let them mourn over you before they move on with the rest of their lives with a peace of mind and the memory of you."

 

Asta faltered and that was all it took for her resolve to completely fall under his spell. She sighed heavily, closing her eyes as she made a decision that would forever change the course of fate.

 

"... _I'll do it."_


	14. The After Effects of A Silver Tongue Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Yondu woke up, his heart broke twice in a span of thirty minutes. Once when he realized that he slept with the wrong women. The second took what was left of his heart and crushed it in such small pieces there was no hope to fix it when he found the woman he never expected to love so deeply dead.

Yondu woke with a jolt the next morning, starling himself out of bed and ready for a fight - for a moment, he wasn't entirely sure where he was nor what he did the night before. His mind was swarming with memories of whips and fights that he wished he could forget. He took a deep breath and assessed the situation. The fact that he wasn't under attack didn't ease his worries, neither did the unfamiliar room, but he did ease the tension in his shoulders as he remembered where he was - the Libidine, with Asta.

 

Typically, his sudden jolt and jagged breath warranted worried mummers and icy hands rubbing circles on his shoulders until he remembered that he wasn't there anymore - that he was _free_ now. But the only cold he felt was from the brisk morning air that filtered through the room's poor insulation.

 

His eyes fell to the woman on the bed. At first glance, he believed it to be Asta, but that relief was short lived. The longer he looked, the _closer,_ he looked, her edges faded away in a haze. He blinked slowly and the illusion fell leaving a Krylorian girl in her place. His hands tightened into fists at his sides as a low growl formed from his throat.

 

Memories came back to him, jumbled and _wrong._ His mind felt hazing, almost like he was drugged. Whom he believed to be Asta faded away at the seams, hazing out of place to leave the Krylorian girl. Him scratching her back until it bled. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as she screamed his name. He couldn't remember her name. She was one of the other performers - usually had a jealous streak toward his doll.

 

_His doll._ Yondu tensed. He couldn't imagine what his woman was thinking now when he didn't show up at her room. Or worse - if she saw him with this  _lying whore_ that he currently desperately needed answers f rom . There was nothing  different  last night - save for the out of place gentleman he had bumped into - nothing at all to give away the fact that the woman he bedded wasn't the woman he believed. 

 

When she woke up, yawning and rubbing at her eyes, she found an arrow pointed at her head right above the bridge of her nose. She woke up rather abruptly, sitting up straight in the bed with haste, letting curses string from her lips.

  
"What the hell is this about,"� she snapped at him despite the threat he clearly was making toward her.

 

He whistled and the arrow got an inch closer, daring to touch her skin. She  wisely shut her mouth and he gave her a crooked, menacing snarl as he stepped closer to her, thankful he at least had his pants on. 

  
"I'm only going to ask you once, girlie,"� his voice sneered, "What did you do to me and  _why?"�_

 

She didn't answer him, her lips pressing into a tightly thin line, shuddering at the way he moved toward her. She hoped that man would show up again soon and do as he promised - to help her. She hoped that she did the right thing despite the sinking gut in her chest that she was going to die. She hoped it was all worth it as she saw his lips move to form a whistle that was interrupted by a series of bloodcurdling screams.

  
He didn't kill her - for now - instead, he ran off toward the source of the screams, cursing all the while before he found himself pushing his way through a small crowd of performers in the hall. He finally reached the source â€“ a bawling, frantic, babbling Xandarian who couldn't form a single coherent word. He touched her shoulder and she looked at him with frantic panic before she swallowed the fear down and merely bowed her head at him â€“ as if he experienced a great loss, as if she was sorry for him. He glanced around briefly to find that none of the performers would even look him in the eye. He hated the feeling he was beginning to have in his gut, but it was his heart that completely stopped as he realized that they were standing right in front of Asta's bedroom.

  
The door was already partly open, but he slammed it all the way open and stormed in frantically, eyes scanning for any sign of threat before his entire world shattered as his eyes caught sight of her. Long lean legs that once wrapped around his waist tight enough that he could hardly move, dangled limp a good foot or two off the ground. For the first time in a long while, cold hot fear bubbled within him as his eyes traveled farther to hands that once excited him with icy touches to the crook of the neck that he fit perfectly on to lips that once whispered caring words in his ears when nightmares became too much for him to eyes that once sparked so much emotion in his heart that were now dull and icy, staring blankly into the void.

 

A thick rope tied delicately around her neck and to the ceiling. The chair of her vanity was a foot away from her feet. Icy shards of glass were scattered everywhere and he could see small pieces of it embedded into her still bleeding hands. _Still bleeding._ This was fresh, new. She wasn't like this long - she couldn't have been, she just performed not even eight hours ago.

 

"She didn't leave a note," the Xandarian girl whispered - Darcy? Barbie? He didn't know. It didn't matter. Her voice was broken and hoarse, as if it took all she had to even mutter a word.

  
"She didn't have to." A Kree took the girl in her arms and rubbed circles on her back. He wanted to do the same with Asta.

 

He took a step toward her body - the Kree girl watched him more carefully, but didn't stop him. His eyes never left Asta's body. He refused to acknowledge the way that they were blurry with tears. His hands shook as he reached up toward her body, hesitating inches away from her body. _Asta._

  
"What's going on?"�

 

He looked out of the corner of his eye to see the tired, yet cautious eyed Krylorian. She seemed upset, but not nearly as much as she should be considering it's because of her that he couldn't be there for Asta and because of her that the love of his life - his _only_ love - now hung there like butchered meat.

 

He turned with an angry snarl that caused the other performers to scatter out of his way. The Krylorian's eyes spotted the body and the face of the man who just lost the love of his life. A shrill whistle left his lips and no one even tried to stop the arrow that went straight through the air, hitting its target between her eyes. As her body fell, he wished that he could trade her life with Asta's.

 

* * *

 

 

None of his crew left the Libidine for the next few days, thankful for the vacation yet restless for action, they figured that their stay was due to the captain cherishing his bird at the Libidine - Kraglin wouldn't say so, but he was glad that his captain seemed to be making up for his mistake toward the girl.

 

But as the time went by, their captain's angry shouting became more clear as he argued with the owner of the Libidine. No one asked why nor did they question the reason their captain finally just handed over a few jewels and a couple thousand credits for they received their answer when the body of the Libidine's former star was carried out toward their ship with their captain never leaving its side.

 

He ordered them all back on ship fairly quickly. Her body was stored in a beautiful open tray-like coffin with flowers and decorations surrounding her body. A few were open enough with their grief to add a few beautiful possessions to her grave themselves. Kraglin was the only one who cried, but the tension within the ship was too heavy to even tease or beat him for it. Their captain's seat was beside the grave, one of his hands had dropped down to touch its side for the duration of their take off, but no one saw him shred a single tear. If they did, they were smart enough to forget they ever saw it. He already killed two crew members for 'disrespecting the dead.'

 

By Ravager law, there would be no fireworks or spectacular lights over her body as it went through the system and shot out of their ship and into space with sparks of ice and fire. But their captain's angry-grief stricken order to fly their 'damn fucking ship' away to their next destination snapped everyone out of the melancholy caused by her death.

 

There would be few crew members that would remember her - the ones most loyal to Yondu would forever remember the way that he carried a secret spot for his girl, but that it was no secret that she could carry her own in a fight. Kraglin would forever remember her for the nights that she wasn't with Yondu - usually due to a small fight or him having business to attend to â€“ and the way that she would merely sit with him by the bar and listen to his worries and troubles. He always tried his best to return the favor, but now he would never forgive himself for not listening to her more.

 

Yondu would be the one to remember her more strongly and more powerfully than anyone else. He would never forget the way her skin felt against his nor how she seemed to always know when to stop or ask him if he was alright. She had the most soothing tone of voice and a way with words on nights he couldn't sleep. She had a wicked streak that had caused so much trouble and mischief that he was addicted to the way her lips formed that devious smile of hers.

  
He would never forgive himself for losing that.

 

For losing her.

* * *

 

 

Loki had watched the way his daughter's 'corpse' had been torn to shreds and grinned before he had disappeared off of the ship. A quick request toward Heimdall had him back in Asguardian halls before the Ravanger captain had ordered his crew to leave the spot her corpse had been 'honored.' He would be insulted at the quick and unimpressive ritual for his daughter's death had it actually been his daughter they had disintegrated, but he was sure no one would miss that Aakon girl.

 

He couldn't help the devious grin stretched on his face as he turned to walk down the corridors, his plan had worked perfectly. Better than hoped really. Everything would still proceed as he originally planned and in a bit of time, the throne of Asguard will be his. His father, his brother, his niece, will all fall and he will take the throne with the perfect heir.

 

They shall bow to him and to his daughter like they should've began a long time ago.

 

The Nine Realms will tremble as he shall cause the forces of Asguard to rise and become feared once again. When the realms were complete, perhaps he should expand his view toward Midguardian space. Either way, he shall have people on their knees before him and his 'little star'.

 

Things will be just as they should be.


	15. The Stars In Her Veins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reminiscing about her choices and of her memories, Asta gets the push she needs to return home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a sequel to this that takes place before the first Guardians of the Galaxy, but just before and during Yondu picking up the kids for Ego, including Peter.

Her magic and her strength grew with each passing year, yet Asta could never let go of the cost it took. She had basked under the praise of her father and of her grandmother, but it was short lived. Her father's praise became empty and meaningless, his smiles only a reminder of his silver tongue. Her heart still ached deeply in her chest with an icy pain and her eyes lost their lively spark as she wondered the what if's of her past and future. Was this what was to become of her? A hollow shell that blindly followed her father? A blind soldier brimming with power and potential to patiently waiting to be groomed to become a ruler?

 

She wasn't even sure she wanted to become a ruler. Her father spoke of the glory of a throne, yet the glow of power was rather dim in her eyes. She listened. Obeyed. Became what he believed to be the perfect loyal little daughter, better to have him on her side rather than against and it wasn't as if she had anyone else on her side. Except for perhaps Sifa â€“ Thor's daughter had her moments, but was easily swayed by the Allfather's bias.

 

Asta stood in a melancholic silence on the edge of her private balcony, over looking what should have been a beautiful sight. Once upon a time, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen â€“ mystical light dancing upon the gold of Asguard, creating rainbows of reminiscing colors on its surface as magic hummed deeply in the air. But she found herself not looking down upon Asguard's surface, but rather toward its sky.

 

She could still see the stars if she looked close enough. She could still feel the brisk air of space against her skin, her lungs burning at the lack of air but her inner colder Joten content in the freeze. She could remember the constellations, the planets, the moons. She hummed as she closed her eyes, a tune that she could never forget because she'd always be a bit wicked on the inside, her hips slowly swaying to the melody. The Libidine didn't have Asguard's society-viewed beauty, nor its gold nor its reputation. But it had something that still called to her. A familiarity, a relaxed atmosphere.

 

_Home._

 

The only true place she could be herself was lost to her because she let a broken heart, a heart that still bleeds into her soul, make the decision to leave the one place that at the very least, held memories. Yondu may be gone, but she could still across the stage and entice the eyes of every patron. She could see his eyes starring at her through the crowd and pretend that he was still looking at her like he still loved her.

 

"You miss it."�

 

Asta opened her eyes slowly, but didn't bother to turn as Sifa joined her company. Long blonde hair that resembled Thor's mane was tied back into a loose braid and rather than a beautiful dress like Asta, she bore armor and trousers, prepared to battle. An ax strapped to her back. But Asta felt no threatening air around her cousin, just a saddened happiness. She gave Asta a tired smile and clasped her shoulder.

 

"You haven't been yourself since you came back."  


That was hardly fair - she was never herself before she left. Asta's lips thinned as her shoulders tensed, but Sifa didn't seem to notice any sign of warning.

  
"I don't know what happened out there,"  Sifa spoke softly, "I don't see any appeal in traveling through Midguard's space, not knowing where you are or what you may come across. Never knowing if you may find your way back home."�

  
Sifa took a deep breath before looking Asta intensely in the eyes, her expression the grimmest she had ever seen.

 

"But I've known you well to know that this isn't your home in the same way that it is mine. You have the stars within your veins, sister."� _Cousins,_ Asta thought, but she knew by now that correcting Sifa was useless. "- and ever since your return, their sparkle has left your eyes and you have become nothing more than dark moon, hollow and hidden within the shadows."�

 

Sifa glanced over the balcony, her eyes going toward the bridge that led to Heimdall.

 

"I can cover for you, I'll make sure that your father nor mine nor even the Allfather himself knows where you are going for I won't even truly know myself. You don't belong here with us, you belong to the sky, little star. Return to it."�

 

Asta softened at Sifa's words, knowing in her heart that despite her cousin's flaws, she possessed the same strong loyalty her father did. There was truth in her words â€“ no twisted half-lies like the ones Loki spun - there was sincerity, hope, _love._

 

She could return to the stars if there was someone to keep her father occupied - something Sifa could do without a fault. Her last disappearance was so sudden and abrupt, that she knew she had all of Asguard worried and wondering of her whereabouts. Now, it'd be different. She'd have someone here to bat for her when she wasn't around, someone to spin lies and truths about where she had went. Someone to have her back.

 

She could return _home._ She could dance upon the stage of the Libidine - she wasn't sure how she was going to explain her death and perhaps she'd merely change her appearance and go by a different name if she had to. She could sing and swing her hips and have everyone wrapped around her little finger.

 

She wasn't sure about the possibility of running into Yondu. How he'd react, if he'd react at all. What she'd say, what she'd do. But the possibility was small enough that temptation burned at her chest and something told her that maybe seeing him again wouldn't bring upon doom.

 

Asta took one step forward, opening her mouth as if she was about to speak before she decided that there were no words. She took another step. Her arms slowly wrapped themselves around her cousin and squeezed lightly - she could feel the way Sifa tensed under her grasp briefly before relaxing and wrapped her own arms tight against Asta's waist.

 

"Thank you... _Sister."_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Her stage name, Flar, is a reference to an old Norse word meaning treacherous. The name of the Burlesque, Libidine, is latin for Lust. But there we have it, the beginning tone set for the story as Asta tries to venture away from her father and people's hatred for him that they tend to reflect onto her. She's trying to become her own person. This occurs way before the events of any of the movies, with Asta being an adult and older than what is normal for most species, but still fairly young to the eyes of Asgardians, around three hundred or so years old. Yondu is only newly a captain of the Ravangers, putting him around twenty-two or so.


End file.
